Under  Tops'ls  and  Tents 


Under  Tops'ls  and  Tents 


BY 


CYRUS  TOWNSEND   BRADY 


ILLUSTRATES)  1  ;  I     \  ,' 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER^S  SONS 

1917 


Copyright,  1901 
BY  CHARLES  SCEIBNER'S  SONS 


All  rights  reserved 


TO  THE  GRADUATES  OF  THE 

UNITED   STATES   NAVAL   ACADEMY 

AND  ESPECIALLY  THOSE  OF 

THE  CLASS  OF 

1888 


M27112 


Autobiographical  Note 


MAY  the  author  be  pardoned,  since  this  is  so  personal 
a  book,  for  the  following  brief  chronology,  which  he 
trusts  may  better  enable  the  reader  to  understand  the 
situation : 

He  was  born  in  Allegheny  City,  Pennsylvania,  De- 
cember 20,  1861;  removed  to  Kansas  when  about  ten 
years  of  age;  was  appointed  to  the  United  States 
Naval  Academy  in  September,  1879;  was  graduated 
therefrom  in  June,  1883.  Resigned  from  the  Navy  in 
October  of  the  same  year.  Entered  upon  the  railroad 
business  immediately  thereafter.  Was  ordained  Deacon 
in  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  on  February  24, 
1889;  Priest,  November  25,  1890;  Missionary  in  the 
West  and  Archdeacon  of  Kansas  until  1895;  Arch- 
deacon of  Pennsylvania  until  1899;  since  then  Rector 
of  Overbrook,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

In  1898  he  was  appointed  captain  and  chaplain  in 
the  First  Regiment,  Pennsylvania,  United  States  Vol- 
unteers, Spanish-American  War,  and  served  till  the 
regiment  was  mustered  out  of  the  United  States  ser- 
vice. He  is,  therefore,  one  of  the  few  men  in  the  United 
States  who  have  served  both  in  the  Army  and  Navy, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  Church  and  the  Railroad.  In 
The  Recollections  of  a  Missionary  in  the  Great  West  will 
be  found  some  accounts  of  his  experiences  on  the  plains. 

C.  T.  B. 

March  16,  1901 


Contents 

PART  ONE 
WHERE  ADMIRALS  ARE  MADE 

ASHORE 
CHAPTER  I 

YOUTHFUL  PRANKS 

PAGE 

Not  a  Boy  by  any  Means— And  Yet  a  Boy  after  All.— The 
Unlucky  Buddhist.— The  "Holy  Joe."— A  Missionary 
Offering. — Obeying  Orders  Literally. — From  the  Church 
to  the  Hospital.— The  Ruthless  Dentist.— The  "Dead 
Man."— "Tangle-foot"  Wood.— A  Happy  Recognition.— 
"Little  Sally  Walker."— "Clump  Block."— A  Modern 
Pirate.— Vivid  Nomenclature.— "Old  Delaware"  in  Life. .  3 

CHAPTER  II 

MANNERS   AND   CUSTOMS 

Beware  the  Apple  Sauce ! — Milk  for  Men ! — Strength  in  Butter. 
— A  Lesson  in  Table  Manners. — Hazing. — Taking  the  Con- 
ceit Out. — A  Three  Horned  Dilemma. — Smiling  by  Num- 
bers.— Reporting  His  Photographs. — The  Disadvantage  of 
Eulogies. — A  Recipe  for  Saint-hood. — The  Base  Uses  of 
the  Santtf. — Battalions  of  One. — The  Disorganizing  Coin. 
—The  Dancing  Master.— The  Social  Circle.— A  Master  of 
the  Sword 15 


CONTENTS 
CHAPTER  III 

THE   STORY   OF   A   HERO 

PAGE 

AJSoldier  of  Fortune  Indeed. — The  Honor  of  a  Sailor. — Captain 
McGiffin  and  the  Battle-ship  Chen  Yuen  at  the  Battle  of 
the  Yalu. — An  Historic  Letter  to  His  Mother. — "A  Broken 
and  a  Contrite  Heart." — Left  Angled  Triangles. — A  Fighter 
Rather  than  a  Scholar. — "Man  the  Boards." — Bound  to  be 
Seen.— Even  a  Theological  School ! 26 

CHAPTER  IV 

IN   AND   OUT   OF   THE    CLASS-ROOM 

Amateur  Mathematicians. — Foot-pounds  by  Order. — Captain 
Mahan's  Fluent  Language. — Greater  than  Manila. — An 
Association  of  Chefs. — A  Real  Spread. — Taking  it  Exter- 
nally.— Give  Him  Air. — The  Most  Beautiful. — Unhandy 
with  a  Gun. — Attached  to  the  Santee. — Embracing  Venus. 
— A  Demonstration  of  Feeling. — The  Descendant  of  the 
Patroons  Ahead. — Narrow  Quarters. — Contraband  Bottles. 
—New  Use  of  a  "Doctor  Book."— My  First  Christmas.— 
"Spreads."— Fire.— Sham  Battles.— The  Real  Thing 39 


AFLOAT 
CHAPTER  V 

DEEP   WATER   CRUISING 

The  Practical  Part  of  it. — Cruising  at  Anchor. — How  We  Cele- 
brated.—"Spuds."— Sleeping  in  the  Bight.— Under  Way. 
— Our  First  Introduction  to  the  Sea. — Blue  Water  and  Sea 
Legs  at  Last. — The  Watches. — Hammocks. — Stealing 
Fresh  Water.— The  Handy  Scuttle-butt.— The  Ship's 
Cook.— Holy  Stoning  the  Darky.— What  We  Ate.— 
Pinckney  and  Pie. — Pinckney  Plays  Captain. — On  the 
Flying-jib. — A  Trick  at  the  Wheel. — Heaving  the  Lead. . .  53 


CONTENTS 
CHAPTER  VI 

LIFE   ON   A   PRACTICE   SHIP 

PAGE 

Reefing  Topsails. — On  the  Swaying  Yard-arm. — In  Great  Luck ! 
— "It's  the  Captain." — Never  Idle. — Surprise  Quarters. — 
"Bally's"  Exploit.— The  Flying  Dutchman.— Taken  for  a 
Pirate. — A  New  Commandant. — General  Muster. — A 
Spotless  Ship.— Night  Prayers.— The  Lonely  Boat.— 
Target  Practice.— The  Astonished  Cat.— The  Yacht  Club. 
— A  Fierce  Gale. — Aloft  in  the  Storm. — A  Ghastly  Acci- 
dent.— Bold  Surgery 66 


CHAPTER  VII 

EXPERIENCES    BITTER   AND    OTHERWISE 

Savage  Dentistry. — A  Lucky  Move. — A  Narrow  Escape. — 
Hardships  on  a  Leaky  Ship. — Squalls. — Breakers  Ahead. 
— Man  Overboard. — Fire. — A  Collision. — The  Aftermath. 
— Tacking  Ship  the  First  Time. — Disgraced. — Sweeping 
over  the  Spuds. — Another  Failure. — Success  at  Last. — 
Marvellous  Navigation. — All  Hands  Overboard. — "Jack 
Sharkee." 79 


CHAPTER  VIII 

FUN   ASHORE 

The  Dolphin-Striker.— Fishing  a  la  Neptune.— Deep  Water 
Denizens. — Sea  Hazing. — Never  There. — Exhausting  the 

Repertoire. — Two    Dinners. — F and     the    Yankee 

Maiden. — The  Crew  and  the  Cow. — Hospitality. — The 
Hunters  Hunted. — A  Hop  on  Deck. — How  We  Made 
the  Boat. — Blasting  Preliminaries. — A  Solitary  Kindness. 
—Spuds  and  Sally.— The  Ship's  Barber.— Music  Hath  No 
Charms. — An  Awful  Come  Down 91 


CONTENTS 
CHAPTER  IX 

IN    SUNSHINE   AND   IN   FOG 

PAGE 

An  Epic  of  the  Laundry. — Having  Fun  with  the  Wash. — 
Running  the  Gauntlet. — The  Rival  Captains. — Letters 
from  Home.—"  Keep  a  Little  Farther  Off.  "—A  Fog  Appari- 
tion.—Icebergs  !— Black  Jack's  Pluck.— An  Ill-provided 
Ship.— A  Sailor's  Ingenuity.— A  Cast  of  the  "Dipsey" 
Lead.— "I  Pulled  Him,  Suh!"— The  Painter.— A  Cargo 
of  Melons. — A  High  Time  in  Vineyard  Sound. — The  End.  103 


PART  TWO 

OUT  WITH  THE  UNITED  STATES  VOLUNTEERS 
CHAPTER  I 

JOINING   THE   VOLUNTEERS 

Sworn  in  at  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Station. — "Good-by, 
Papa,  Good-by!"— The  Terms  of  My  Going.— I  Join  the 
Regiment. — Beware  of  Horse  Trading! — Clifford. — In 
the  Philippines. — A  Clerical  Banker. — Wanted  it  Back. — 
No  Angels  Need  Apply.— A  Queer  Book  Agent.— The  Can- 
teen.—We  Abolish  it.— Boycotting  the  Church.— The  Ma- 
terial Argument 1 19 

CHAPTER  II 

VETERANS   AND    "  ROOKIES " 

His  Own  Four-in-Hand.— The  Mule  that  Went  Wrong.— The 
Silk  Buyer  in  the  Ranks.— Is  He  a  Man  ?— A  bad  Boy  .—A 
Piteous  Appeal.— Not  There.— The  Lunatic.— An  Ex- 
change of  Courtesies. — Chaplain,  not  an  Officer. — Letters. 
—A  Puzzle.— M and  His  Baby 131 


CONTENTS 
CHAPTER  III 

IN   THE   HOSPITALS   AT  CHICKAMAUGA 

PAGE 

A  Reeking  Camp.— The  Old  Battle-field.— Filled  with  Disease. 
—Not  Our  Fault.— Scarcity  of  Water.— The  Horrors  of  the 
Hospital. — Over-worked,  Over-crowded. — Dying  in  the 
Rain. — Our  Private  Hospital. — Hospital  Trains. — In- 
efficiency and  Incompetency. — A  Sad  Scene  at  Home. — 
Calm  Indeed.— "Thy  Need  is  Greater  than  Mine."— The 
Bugle  Call.— In  the  Death  Tent.— Bathing  His  Head.— No 
Beer  for  the  Convalescents 142 


CHAPTER  IV 

TWO   PECULIAR  WEDDINGS 

Weddings. — An  Impediment. — The  Priest  is  Firm. — Her  Dilem- 
ma.— Hearts  Win. — The  Wedding  March. — Married  Again. 
—"Whoa,  There,  Whoa!"— "In  the  Soup."— Married, 
but  not  by  Telegraph.— A  Fraud.— The  Old  Story.— The 
Honor  of  His  Name. — Not  under  Duress. — I  Make  a  Plan. 
— Man  and  Wife  by  Common  Law. — An  Expected  End. — 
Baptized  and  Deserts. — This  One  Stayed. — Church  Call. 
— The  Music. — An  Inestimable  Blessing 154 


CHAPTER  V 

IN   THE   FIELD   AND   ON   THE   TRANSPORT 

Busy  Days. — A  Volunteer  Aide. — Almost  the  Real  Thing. — A 
Successful  Campaign. — Playing  Soldier  Hard. — American 
Adaptability.— Battle  Exercises.— What  We  Ate.— Clothes 
Made  All  the  Difference. — Rest  on  a  Rock. — "Major  Big 
Talk."— The  Champion  Liar.— I  Do  it  Myself.— On  the 
Transport. — Not  Sea-sick. — Typhoid. — I  Live  on  Apolli- 
naris. — Infuriating  Frankness. — Ganymede. — Home  Again  166 


CONTENTS 

PART  THREE 
STORIES  OF  ARMY  AND  NAVY  LIFE 

PAGE 

STANDING  AND  WAITING 181 

THE  WORST  SOLDIER  or  THE  REGIMENT 186 

How  THE  FIRST  PENNSYLVANIA  CHARGED  UP  SAN  JUAN  HILL  201 

THE  INDECISION  OF  MABEL 215 

THE  SECRET  OF  THE  LETTER 229 

THE  OLD  LOVE  AND  THE  NEW 236 


Illustrations 


The  United  States  Ship  Constellation    .  Frontispiece 

FACING 

PAGE 

Captain  Philo  Norton  McGiffin 28 

"Away  All  Boats!" 54 

A  Typical  Old  Jack  Tar 100 

The  Headquarter's  Tent  and  the  Commander  of  the  Regiment  126 

The  Officers'  Mess 150 

The  Evangelists'  Tent 172 


PART   ONE 

WHERE   ADMIRALS   ARE    MADE 
ASHORE  AND  AFLOAT 


WHERE    ADMIRALS    ARE    MADE 
ASHORE 

CHAPTER   I 

Youthful  Pranks 

Not  a  Boy  by  Any  Means— And  Yet  a  Boy  After  All— The 
Unlucky  Buddhist.— The  "Holy  Joe."— A  Missionary  Of- 
fering.— Obeying  Orders  Literally. — From  the  Church  to 
the  Hospital.— The  Ruthless  Dentist.— The  "Dead  Man."— 
"Tangle-foot"  Woods. — A  Happy  Recognition. — "Little 
Sally  Walker."— "Clump  Block."— A  Modern  Pirate.— 
Vivid  Nomenclature. — "Old  Delaware"  in  Life. 

THERE  is  nothing  which  the  naval  cadet  so 
fiercely  resents  as  being  called  a  boy.  Boy  is 
a  regular  rating  in  the  Navy,  and  the  smallest  mid- 
shipman feels  insulted  if  that  title  be  applied  to  him. 
He  has  been  styled  officially  a  young  gentleman, 
from  time  immemorial.  Yet  in  no  college  where 
the  course  is  as  severe  are  the  students  more  gen- 
uine boys  than  the  "young  gentlemen"  of  the  Naval 
Academy.  The  age  limits  for  matriculation  in  my 
time  were  from  fourteen  to  eighteen,  and  the  ma- 
jority were  nearer  the  lower  than  the  higher  limit. 
The  work  of  the  school  presents  a  singular  mix- 
ture. At  one  moment  a  boy  of  sixteen  may  be  in 
virtual  command  of  a  2,ooo-ton  ship,  or  he  may  be 

3 


S    AND   TENTS 

running  a  5,000  horse-power  engine.  He  may  be 
drilling  four  hundred  other  students,  or  mixing  a 
deadly  explosive,  or  in  a  charge  of  an  eight-inch 
gun;  by  contrast,  and,  during  the  next  half  hour, 
possibly  he  is  being  inspected  to  see  that  his  shoes 
are  clean,  his  jacket  brushed,  and  his  face  properly 
shaved!  Or  he  may  be  reported  for  crossing  the 
grass,  or  for  smoking  a  cigarette,  or  for  wearing  a 
non-regulation  collar. 

On  one  hand  he  is  under  a  tutelage  longer  and 
more  severe,  a  discipline  harder  than  any  boy  edu- 
cated either  at  home  or  at  any  ordinary  college  ex- 
periences; on  the  other,  he  is  thrust  into  the  midst 
of  blinding  responsibilities  and  charged  with  the 
grave  duty  of  commanding  men;  but  he  never  for- 
gets to  be  a  boy  in  spite  of  his  strenuous  repudia- 
tion of  the  title.  Indeed,  when  he  is  an  old  man 
with  the  four  stars  of  a  full  admiral  in  his  flag,  he 
is  a  boy  still.  Farragut  used  to  amuse  himself  on 
the  Hartford  and  show  his  agility  by  jumping 
across  a  stick  of  wood  which  he  held  himself  with 
both  hands.  I  do  not  know  if  Dewey  ever  fol- 
lowed this  healthful  and  harmless  practice,  but  I 
venture  to  say  he  is  as  much  a  boy  at  heart  as  he 
ever  was. 

These  little  yarns  deal  more  with  the  fun  and  the 
boyish  pranks  and  tricks  of  the  naval  cadet  than 
they  do  with  the  serious  side  of  his  life.  Recita- 
tions and  drills,  exercises  and  experiments  are  more 
or  less  monotonous,  yet  if  the  serious  side  be  not 
emphasized,  it  is  not  because  it  was  not  there.  After 
a  lapse  of  twenty  years  the  serious  side  still  pre- 

4 


YOUTHFUL    PRANKS 

dominates  and  it  is  only  by  an  effort  of  memory 
that  I  recall  the  other  phase. 

We  will  begin  with  church,  for  that  is  the  very 
last  thing  the  cadet  thinks  of.  Everybody  must  go 
to  church.  Individual  preferences,  when  backed  by 
parental  approbation,  are  considered.  Since  attend- 
ance at  religious  service  is  strictly  compulsory,  very 
few  desire  to  go.  One  ingenuous  youth,  who  was, 
fortunately  for  him,  an  orphan,  proclaimed  himself 
a  Buddhist,  and  made  the  point  that  since  there  was 
no  Buddhist  temple  at  Annapolis,  he  ought  not  to 
be  compelled  to  do  violence  to  his  religious  convic- 
tions by  going  to  an  alien  service !  He  was  promptly 
sent  to  the  Episcopal  Church.  Whether  the  official 
mind  considered  it  the  best  substitute  for  the  Bud- 
dhist or  not  we  could  not  ascertain.  Most  of  the 
cadets  resorted  to  the  Episcopal  Chapel  in  the  yard, 
as  it  was  the  nearest. 

We  had  as  chaplain — in  sea  parlance  a  "Holy  Joe" 
or  "Sky  Pilot" — a  man  who  had  been  old  when 
Farragut  captured  Mobile  Bay.  Indeed  I  believe  he 
had  been  chaplain  on  one  of  the  ships  there.  He 
was  doubtless  a  good  man,  but  if  he  took  any  inter- 
est in  the  cadets  it  did  not  manifest  itself  in  any 
concrete  way.  I  never  saw  him  in  my  quarters 
during  my  whole  four-year  term,  and  he  never  spoke 
a  solitary  personal  word  to  me,  and  I  was  rather  a 
good  subject  for  a  clergyman,  too.  This  was  all 
wrong. 

The  boys  there  were  just  as  amenable  to  the  in- 
fluence of  a  good  preacher  and  a  good  man,  who 
would  take  an  interest  in  them  and  mingle  with 

5 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

them,  as  any  other  set  of  boys;  and  much  good 
might  have  been  done  among  them  by  the  right 
sort  of  a  man.  I  am  happy  to  say  that  things  are 
different  now. 

McGiffin  (we  shall  see  him  later)  used  to  say 
there  were  but  four  Christians  at  the  Naval  Acad- 
emy and  they  were  all  Japanese!  But  all  that  has 
been  changed  of  late,  and  there  are  many  followers 
of  Christ  among  the  cadets  to-day. 

The  cadets  sat  in  the  side  aisles  of  the  chapel, 
leaving  the  centre  aisles  for  the  officers  and  their 
families.  When  the  offering  was  received  the  two 
boys  charged  with  the  duty  of  passing  the  plates 
did  not  make  the  slightest  effort  to  circulate  them 
among  the  cadets,  for  we  never  had  any  money. 
They  would  walk  rapidly  down  the  side  aisle  and 
then  come  deliberately  up  the  middle,  gathering 
thence  what  they  could.  One  Sunday  the  chaplain 
announced  that  he  would  preach  a  missionary  ser- 
mon the  next  Sunday.  It  did  not  have  the  ordinary 
effect  in  emptying  the  church,  for  we  were  obliged 
to  go  as  usual. 

During  the  week  it  occurred  to  the  bright  mind 
of  a  senior,  or  first-class  man,  who  is  now  a  prom- 
inent New  York  financier,  that  it  would  be  well  for 
the  cadets  to  make  an  offering.  So  he  sent  out  to 
the  bank  on  Saturday  morning  and  succeeded  in 
smuggling  in  over  three  hundred  copper  cents  which 
he  distributed  one  cent  per  boy  to  the  Episcopal 
battalion.  We  stationed  a  strong,  long-armed  man 
on  the  outside  seat  of  the  first  pew  in  each  aisle. 

The  chaplain  made  a  piteous  appeal  for  pennies 
6 


YOUTHFUL   PRANKS 

even,  and  when  the  astonished  cadets  who  passed 
the  plates  started  on  their  perfunctory  promenade, 
the  strong,  long-armed  men  aforesaid  promptly  re- 
lieved them  of  the  metal  plates  and  each  one  dropped 
in  one  copper  cent  with  an  ominous  crash,  and  then 
deliberately  handed  the  plate  to  the  next  boy,  who 
did  the  same  thing.  It  rained  copper  cents  for 
about  ten  minutes.  The  chaplain  was  dreadfully 
disconcerted,  the  officers  fidgeted  and  looked  aghast 
• — some  of  them  laughed — and  the  cadets  preserved 
a  deadly  solemnity.  The  affair  was  a  striking 
success. 

It  is  told  that  a  large  number  of  the  cadets  were 
negligent  in  following  the  service  in  the  Chapel, 
which  was  after  the  ritual  of  the  Episcopal  Church. , 
An  incautious  officer  in  charge  on  Sunday  morning 
made  the  church  party  a  little  address  on  the  sub- 
ject, saying  he  supposed  that  some  of  them  erred 
through  ignorance,  but  if  they  would  observe  him 
carefully  and  do  as  he  did  (in  military  parlance, 
follow  the*  motions  of  the  commanding  officer)  they 
would  not  go  wrong. 

Word  was  quietly  passed  through  the  battalion. 
They  marched  into  the  church.  The  officer  in 
charge  took  his  place  in  the  front  pew,  settled 
himself  in  his  seat  and  calmly  blew  his  nose.  Three 
hundred  noses  were  simultaneously  blown  with  a 
vehemence  that  was  startling!  The  officer  looked 
around  and  blushed  violently  in  great  surprise. 
Three  hundred  heads  "followed  the  motions  of  the 
commanding  officer."  Six  hundred  cheeks  vio- 
lently endeavored  to  blush — a  hard  thing  for  a 

7 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

midshipman  to  do— and  so  on  through  the  service. 

The  man  could  not  stir  without  instant  imitation. 
He  finally  confined  himself  strictly  to  the  prescribed 
ritual  of  the  service,  looking  neither  to  the  right 
nor  to  the  left,  not  daring  to  raise  a  finger  or  breathe 
out  of  the  ordinary  course.  This  enterprise  was 
also  a  startling  success. 

The  cadets  received  other  instructions  later  in  the 
day  from  a  furious  officer  who  sternly  resented  their 
innocent  statements  that  they  did  not  know  which 
was  ritual  and  which  was  not,  and  that  he  had  not 
instructed  them  that  blowing  his  nose  stood  on  a 
different  plane  from  saying  his  prayers.  It  was  a 
huge  joke  everywhere. 

From  the  church  to  the  hospital  is  an  easy  transi- 
tion— although  I  believe  the  usual  direction  is  the 
other  way.  To  those  who  were  not  sick,  the  privi- 
leges of  the  sick  list  were  inestimable — absence 
from  drills  and  recitations  and  the  blessed  privi- 
lege of  lying  on  the  bed  in  one's  room  and,  when 
the  officer  in  charge  came  around  inspecting  and 
demanding  in  thundering  tones  why  you  did  not 
rise  and  salute,  of  saying  weakly:  "On  the  sick 
list,  sir." 

Many  and  varied  were  the  devices  employed,  in 
the  language  of  the  school,  to  "pull  the  list."  It 
was  a  conflict  of  wits  usually  between  the  medical 
officers  and  the  cadets.*  Sore  eyes,  ear-ache  or 

*The  standard  of  personal  honor  among  the  cadets  was, 
and  is,  very  high;  a  cadet's  word  was  not  questioned  except 
in  the  face  of  unsurmpuntable  evidence.  A  liar  would  be 
forced  to  resign  by  his  classmates  and  wilful  deceit  was 
frowned  upon  as  lying.  But  there  was  one  singular  exception 

8 


YOUTHFUL   PRANKS 

back-ache,  or  some  similar  and  intangible  pains 
were  favorite  dodges  until  the  advent  of  a  surgeon 
whose  name  was  Ruth — a  singular  misnomer,  for 
he  entirely  lacked  it. 

"Sore  eyes,  eh?"  he  said,  "sore  ear,  pain  in  the 
toe,  back-ache?  My,  my!  That's  bad!  What  a 
sick-looking  lot  of  young  gentlemen?  But  cheer 
up,  my  young  friends,  I'll  give  you  something  that 
will  fix  all  that." 

Presently  the  apothecary  brought  each  of  us  a 
brimming  glass.  What  it  was  we  never  knew,  but 
the  consequences  of  that  dose  linger  in  my  memory 
still.  We  were  genuinely  ill  later  on,  and  the  next 
day  every  one  of  us  reported  "cured."  The  mere 
suggestion  of  the  medicine  which  he  had  so  cun- 
ningly compounded,  for  a  long  time  eliminated 
similar  diseases  from  the  catalogue  of  ills  presented 
at  morning  sick  call.  It  was  an  old  dodge,  when 
given  orders  to  take  capsules,  carefully  to  empty 
out  the  medicine  and  then  bofdly  take  the  capsules. 
He  made  us  come  over  and  take  the  full  capsules 
in  his  presence. 

The  cadets  were  examined  physically  in  puris 
naturalibus  for  everything,  even  color  blindness.  It 
was  very  embarrassing  for  a  modest  cadet  (by  the 
way,  only  the  fourth-class  were  modest)  to  stand 
a  la  Adam  before  a  body  of  eminent  surgeons  and 
be  required  to  select  and  match  interminable  little 

to  our  boyish  code.  It  was  considered  entirely  legitimate  and 
proper  to  get  on  the  sick  list  by  any  means  short  of  actual 
falsehood.  The  surgeons  were  always  fair  game,  and  the  war 
of  wits  was  invariably  under  way  between  them  and  the  cadets. 
I  am  glad  to  learn  that  things  are  different  now. 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

pieces  of  colored  wool.  One  of  the  cadets  on  his 
first  entrance  was  handed  a  little  skein  of  yarn  and 
at  the  same  time  was  asked  a  question.  He 
promptly  replied,  thinking  he  had  been  asked  to 
give  the  color: 

"Light  green,  sir." 

"Well,  you  look  like  it,"  said  the  officer,  amidst 
a  gigantic  laugh  from  the  examining  board.  He 
had  asked  the  young  man  for  his  name. 

Orders  would  be  passed  from  time  to  time  to 
the  effect  that  the  first  half  of  the  third-class  were 
to  "lay  over"  to  the  hospital  to  have  their  teeth 
examined.  We  had  a  fat  little  dentist,  one  of  the 
best  of  workmen,  but  as  ruthless  as  the  surgeon. 
He  was  a  contract  doctor,  and  we  used  to  say  after 
some  especially  brutal  pounding  that  if  we  ever 
caught  him  out  in  civil  life  we  would  kill  him.  He 
would  shake  his  fat  sides  with  merriment,  and  go 
at  the  next  man  with  renewed  zest.  He  is  alive 
yet  and  flourishing,  I  believe. 

Speaking  of  officers,  they  all  had  nicknames. 
One  of  them  of  a  particularly  pale  complexion  was 
known  as  the  "dead  man."  He  was  not  very 
promising  as  to  looks,  but  no  chief  engineer  in  the 
Spanish-American  War  made  so  brilliant  a  record. 
Associated  forever  with  an  immortal  battle-ship,  it 
is  safe  to  say  that  there  is  hardly  a  naval  engineer 
in  the  world  who  is  so  thoroughly  well  known  and 
esteemed  as  this  officer. 

Another  officer,  very  bright  mentally,  but  mild 
and  gentle  in  his  manners  and  appearance,  had  a 
habit  of  wrapping  his  legs  around  those  of  the  chair 

10 


YOUTHFUL    PRANKS 

on  which  he  sat.  So  sinuous  and  tortuous  was  the 
performance  that  we  used  to  say  that  if  someone 
would  suddenly  call  out  "Attention!"  to  him,  he 
would  either  break  his  own  leg  or  the  chair  leg, 
for  he  never  could  disentangle  himself  in  a  reason- 
able time.  We  called  him  "Old  Tanglefoot."  The 
name  was  a  good  one,  for  he  had  command  of  the 
smallest  of  the  vessels  which  followed  Dewey  into 
Manila  on  that  gray  May  morning;  and  it  was  the 
saucy  Petrel  which  he  took  in  nearest  to  the  enemy, 
and  which  struck  the  final  blow  that  crumbled  the 
Spanish  Empire  in  the  East.  He  was  "Tangle- 
foot" for  the  Dons,  sure  enough. 

I  was  at  a  banquet  at  the  Union  League  last 
spring,  when  just  at  the  close  of  it,  a  quiet  little 
man  came  into  the  room  from  another  banquet 
which  he  had  been  attending.  I  recognized  him 
instantly.  "Why,  it's  Tangle-foot  Wood  of  the 
Petrel!"  I  cried,  as  I  ran  to  greet  him.  I  hope  he 
did  not  hear  me.* 

Another  man  who  was  an  officer  in  the  Academy 
while  I  was  there  was  called  "Little  Sally,"  I  pre- 
sume because  his  last  name  was  Walker.  He  was  a 
good  man  but  a  "holy  terror"  in  mathematics  and 
applied  science.  He  was  a  "holy  terror"  in  gun- 
nery and  courage  with  the  little  gun-boat  Concord, 
which  he  commanded,  at  Manila,  too. 

Another  officer  as  high  in  professional  attain- 
ment as  he  is  wide  in  girth  was  called  "Clump 

*  He  died  the  other  day  of  fever,  due  in  all  probability  to 
his  arduous  service  in  tropic  waters. 

II 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

Block"  from  the  name  of  a  stout,  fat  little  block 
used  in  old-time  ships. 

One  of  the  French  civilian  professors  had  a  very 
distinguished  name  which  was  shortened  into 
"Peter/*  and  I  remember  the  withering  look  which 
was  fastened  upon  one  unlucky  youth  who  thought 
to  ingratiate  himself  by  addressing  this  descendant 
of  the  Montmorencys  as  "Monsieur  Pierre." 

M.  Pierre  grew  very  deaf  before  he  was  retired 
and  the  irreverent  cadets  were  wont  to  salute  him 
with  a  cheerful  "Good-morning,  Peter" — under  the 
breath,  be  it  said.  He  took  snuff,  too,  and  it  was  a 
favorite  dodge  for  a  man  who  did  not  know  his 
lesson  to  confiscate  his  snuff-box.  The  whole  sec- 
tion would  join  in  the  search  for  it,  when  he  missed 
it,  and  the  man  who  restored  it  always  received  a 
high  mark! 

Another  officer,  from  his  long  drooping  mus- 
taches, was  called  "Pirute" — being  cadetese  for 
pirate,  I  presume — and  there  is  a  cadet  who  will 
never  forget  the  dressing  down  he  got  when  in 
entire  ignorance  he  addressed  this  officer  as  "Mr. 
Pirute."  Another  man  who  highly  distinguished 
himself  in  the  late  war  was  traditionally  called 
"Polly."  He  had  a  lean  and  hungry  look,  and  it 
had  occurred  to  generations  of  cadets  that  he  must 
certainly  want  a  cracker.  He,  too,  distinguished 
himself  at  Manila.  The  study  of  Chemistry  was 
invariably  called  "Skinny." 

When  the  cadet  succeeded  in  making  a  good 
recitation  he  "frapp'd"  it;  when  he  received  a  high 
mark  he  "knocked"  it;  when  he  studied  hard  he 

12 


YOUTHFUL   PRANKS 

"boned'* ;  when  he  knew  anything  he  was  "savvey" ; 
those  lowest  in  their  studies  were  known  as  the 
"wooden"  section.  Any  new  and  handsome  thing, 
to  be  coveted,  was  "sux,"  as  a  "sux-jacket,"  etc. 
The  officer  or  cadet  who  did  not  have  a  nickname 
was  not  very  much  thought  of  at  the  Academy. 
Not  to  be  worthy  a  nickname  was  evidence  of  being 
held  in  low  esteem. 

The  lads  all  had  nicknames.  One  cadet  who 
looked  like  another  cadet  who  had  borne  a  mythical 
resemblance  to  a  goat  was  known  as  "Goat."  An- 
other man  whose  name  happened  to  be  Alexander 
was  called  "Alice,"  and  he  was  invariably  referred 
to  as  "she"  and  "her,"  though  one  of  the  most 
manly  boys  in  the  school.  Another  one  was  chris- 
tened "Tommy,"  because  his  name  was  George, 
another  "Dennis"  for  no  reason  at  all,  unless  it 
was  that  he  looked  like  a  Frenchman — from  Cork! 

One  cadet,  evidently  a  very  mild  and  gentle  lad, 
if  he  had  followed  his  natural  bent,  was  called 
"Alpha  Tough,"  because  he  was  the  brightest  star 
in  the  constellation  of  toughs!  He  had  charge  of 
the  sections  as  officer-of-the-day  one  morning,  as 
we  were  marching  to  recitations.  As  the  sections 
came  tramping  down  the  sidewalk,  Alpha  noticed 
an  old  gentleman  of  a  very  distinguished  appear- 
ance, standing  in  our  way.  He  bawled  out  in  the 
most  autocratic  and  arrogant  manner  with  a  wave 
of  the  hand  a  la  Podsnap: 

"Hey,  you!  Get  out  of  the  way  of  these  sec- 
tions!" 

"Certainly,  sir,"  said  the  old  man,  giving  him  a 

13 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

military  salute  and  smiling  all  over  his  face  as  he 
stepped  on  the  grass  and  watched  us  filing  by. 

"Do  you  know  who  that  was,  Harry?"  asked  a 
cadet  of  the  reckless  youth  a  few  moments  later. 

"No,  and  I  don't  care,"  was  the  lordly  reply. 

"Well,  that  was  Lieutenant-General  Longstreet," 
was  the  answer. 

Alpha  was  afterward  known  as  the  only  cadet 
who  had  ever  ordered  and  been  obeyed  by  a  lieu- 
tenant-general. 

I  returned  to  the  Academy  as  a  member  of  the 
Board  of  Visitors  a  few  years  since.  It  is  a  delight- 
ful experience  for  one  who  has  been  a  cadet  to  go 
back  and  be  escorted  about  and  entertained  by  the 
very  officers  who  had  made  it  interesting  for  him 
while  at  school.  My  wife  and  I  were  walking 
through  the  grounds  with  a  certain  distinguished 
officer  on  this  occasion,  and  we  stopped  opposite  the 
ancient  figure-head  of  the  United  States  ship-of- 
the-line  Delaware,  which  had  been  removed  and 
mounted  on  a  pedestal  in  the  grounds.  It  is  a 
wooden  image  of  perhaps  the  most  preternaturally 
ugly  Roman-nosed  Indian  the  carver  could  evoke 
from  a  fertile  imagination. 

"Madam,"  asked  the  officer,  "do  you  think  I  look 
like  this  figure-head?" 

"Certainly  not,"  replied  the  lady  in  horror. 

"That  is  where  you  disagree  with  your  husband 
then,  because  when  he  was  a  cadet  he  fastened  that 
name  upon  me  on  account  of  a  supposed  likeness, 
and  it  has  stuck  to  me  ever  since." 

Never  mind,  we  all  loved  old  "Delaware"  just 

the  same. 

14 


CHAPTER   II 

Manners  and   Customs 

Beware  the  Apple  Sauce !— Milk  for  Men !— Strength  in  But- 
ter.— A  Lesson  in  Table  Manners. — Hazing. — Taking  the 
Conceit  Out. — A  Three  Horned  Dilemma. — Smiling  by 
Numbers. — Reporting  his  Photographs. — The  Disadvan- 
tage of  Eulogies. — A  Recipe  for  Saint-hood. — The  Base 
Uses  of  the  Santee. — Battalions  of  One. — The  Disorganiz- 
ing Coin.— The  Dancing  Master.— The  Social  Circle.— A 
Master  of  the  Sword. 

MEALS  were,  of  course,  of  the  plainest  and 
simplest,  though  the  food  was  good  and 
plentiful.  We  had  dessert  only  twice  a  week — 
Wednesday  dinner,  six  ginger-snaps  apiece ;  Sunday 
dinner,  two  halves  of  a  canned  peach.  Once  in 
awhile  we  would  be  given  a  new  dessert,  which  we 
were  apt  to  fight  shy  of,  as  it  was  usually  medi- 
cated. The  medical  staff  would  sometimes  think 
that  the  battalion  needed  dosing  in  some  particular, 
and  medicine  would  be  subtly  conveyed  to  the  whole 
crowd  of  us  via  the  unsuspicious  medium  of  apple- 
sauce ! 

It  was  an  invariable  practice  of  the  cadets  near 
each  other  at  the  different  tables  to  arrange  their 
ginger-snaps  in  little  piles,  and  spin  the  pepper 
cruet  among  them,  the  winner  to  take  all.  Every 
Wednesday  one  man  out  of  every  four  would  have 
a  surfeit  of  ginger-snaps.  I  have  hated  them  ever 

15 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND    TENTS 

since  those  days.  Contrary  to  biblical  rule  the 
"plebes,"  babes  or  youngsters  (i.e.,  the  fourth-class 
men,  the  newly  joined),  were  not -allowed  to  drink 
milk.  That  was  food  for  the  strong  men  of  the 
upper  classes,  and  the  "upperer"  you  were  the  more 
milk  you  got.  Meat,  and  the  outside  piece  at  that, 
very  well  done,  was  sufficient  for  the  youngsters. 

Once,  while  sojourning  on  the  Santee  with  an 
upper  classman,  who  has  since  become  a  distin- 
guished officer  in  the  regular  army,  we  took  occa- 
sion to  protest  against  the  quality  of  the  butter 
which  was  furnished  us.  In  order  to  make  the 
protest  emphatic,  the  aforesaid  young  man  rose 
from  the  table  carrying  the  pot  of  butter  in  his 
hand,  and  followed  by  the  cadets  then  enjoying 
punishment,  he  walked  solemnly  up  on  deck.  He 
deliberately  laid  the  butter  down  in  front  of  a  nine- 
inch  gun,  in  full  view  of  the  authorities,  drew  a 
cutlass  from  the  bulkhead  and  shouted, 

"Attention!  Cast  loose  and  provide!  Run  in! 
Load!"  etc.  The  butter  was  certainly  strong 
enough  to  manipulate  the  entire  battery,  let  alone 
the  gun!  We  received  an  added  punishment  for 
it,  but  better  butter,  which  was  compensation. 

Sometimes  we  would  get  a  youth  from  the  back 
woods  districts  whose  "manners  had  not  that  repose 
which  stamps  the  cast  of  Vere  de  Vere,"  and  who 
would  make  a  prodigious  play  with  his  knife  at 
the  table.  He  wouldn't  do  it  more  than  three 
minutes  before  one  of  the  negro  waiters  would 
stop  by  his  chair  and  lay  a  fork  by  his  plate,  an- 
nouncing, in  perfectly  audible  tones,  "Heh  is  a 

16 


MANNERS    AND    CUSTOMS 

fo'k  fo'  you,  suh,  wid  Mr.  A's  compliments."  The 
waiter  would  hardly  leave  before  another  one  would 
deposit  a  fork  with  "Mr.  B's  compliments."  An- 
other would  leave  one  with  "Mr.  Cs  compliments," 
and  so  on  until  the  poor  unfortunate  would  be 
hedged  around  with  forks! 

The  process  usually  took  away  his  appetite, 
temporarily,  and  also  his  desire  to  use  his  knife  as 
a  shovel,  permanently.  I  have  seen  a  poor  lad 
bury  his  face  in  his  hands  and  fairly  "boo-hoo" 
under  this  operation.  It  was  bitter  but  efficacious. 

One  could  hardly  write  of  the  Academy  without 
speaking  of  "hazing."  No  one,  that  is,  no  sane 
person,  would  defend  that  practice  in  those  gross 
forms — perhaps  in  any  form — with  which  the  word 
is  usually  associated  in  the  popular  mind.  And 
yet  I  must  confess  that  my  views  now,  as  I  have 
expressed  them,  are  not  what  they  once  were.  The 
offering  of  personal  indignities  to  the  newly  joined 
"plebe"  who,  with  all  his  ignorance,  should  be  a 
subject  for  kindly  consideration  at  the  hands  of  his 
older  and  more  experienced  schoolmates,  is,  of 
course,  a  shocking  thing.  I,  myself,  never  received 
any  of  those  indignities,  and  I  know  of  very  few 
instances  of  mishandling  or  ill-treatment  in  the  case 
of  any  cadet* 

*  There  were  no  exhaustive  tests  of  physical  endurance;  no 
"spread-eagling"  or  "wooden  willying";  no  "sammy  races"  or 
"scrapping  committee";  things  with  which  a  recent  Congres- 
sional investigation  of  a  sister  school  have  familiarized  the 
public.  I  personally  never  knew  of  a  man  sustaining  any  per- 
manent physical  injury  from  hazing,  and  I  never  met  any  cadet 
who  did  not  say  the  same.  There  was  fighting  in  plenty,  as 
there  will  always  be  when  high-spirited  boys  are  gathered 

17 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

Hazing,  or,  as  it  is  commonly  called  at  the 
Academy,  "running,"  consisted  largely  of  practical 
jokes.  Most  of  it  was  conceived  in  a  spirit  of 
harmless  fun,  and  was  soon  stopped  if  you  took 
it  in  good  part.  The  man  who  had  taken  enough 
interest  in  you  to  "run  you"  usually  felt  it  incum- 
bent upon  him  to  befriend  you  all  the  rest  of  the 
course.  Every  cadet,  at  least  until  lately,  had  more 
or  less  "running"  or  "hazing;"  Dewey,  Sampson, 
Schley,  Hobson,  as  well  as  the  others.  And  the 
farther  back  in  date  you  were  the  worse  was  the 
hazing.  It  did  not  hurt  these  men  apparently. 

The  Academy  is  the  most  democratic  place  on 
earth;  a  boy  takes  the  place  he  earns  by  ability  and 
manliness,  and  he  gets  nothing  else.  When  a  cadet 
succeeded  in  passing  his  entrance  examinations  he 
usually  spent  his  last  dollar  to  send  a  telegram  home 
announcing  the  fact,  and  paying  extra  for  the  priv- 
ilege of  adding  "U.  S.  N."  to  his  name.*  Then 
he  would  begin  to  entertain  the  idea  that  all  the 
past  and  future  glories  of  the  United  States  Navy 
were,  or  would  be,  embodied  in  his  own  resplen- 
dent person.  Alas,  he  would  soon  be  sadly  un- 
deceived. 

One  of  the  many  puzzling  questions  to  which 

together.  But  none  of  it  was  professional.  If  a  boy  had  a 
grievance  which  could  not  be  adjusted  he  fought  until  he  was 
satisfied.  If  the  hazing  took  an  oppressive  form,  a  refusal  to 
stand  it  with  an  offer  to  fight  usually  put  an  end  to  it. 
Fighting  was  encouraged  by  the  officers;  at  least,  I  recall 
tnore  than  one  cadet  being  reported  for  "not  resenting  an 
insult" — poor  spiritless  fellows  we  all  thought  them. 

*  Initials  lawfully  his  own.  Unlike  the  West-Pointer,  the 
Annapolis  cadet  has  a  regularly  established  rank  in  the  service. 

18 


MANNERS   AND    CUSTOMS 

the  "plebe"  was  usually  required  to  give  an  answer 
was  this: 

"Did  you  come  here  for  $600  a  year" — the  salary 
allowed  by  the  Government — "to  serve  your  coun- 
try, or  to  get  an  education?"  If  in  an  attempt  to 
be  humorous  he  would  answer  "for  $600  a  year/' 
imagine  his  feelings  under  the  contempt  and  scorn 
expressed  by  his  interrogators  who  were  burning 
with  patriotic  zeal  to  serve  their  country!  If  in  a 
spirit  of  fervid  patriotism  the  answer  would  be  "to 
serve  my  country,"  how  difficult  was  it  for  him 
to  answer  the  consequent  question:  "Well,  what 
do  you  think  you  can  do  for  your  country?"  If 
he  replied  that  he  came  "to  get  an  education,"  how 
complete  was  his  humiliation  when  his  unworthy 
attempt  to  beat  a  generous  and  trusting  Govern- 
ment was  pointed  out  to  him  by  more  lofty  minded 
and  experienced  cadets! 

One  favorite  practice  consisted  in  teaching  the 
plebes  to  smile  by  numbers.  When  one  finger  was 
raised,  the  dawnings  of  a  smile  were  to  appear, 
with  two  fingers  it  was  to  grow  wider,  at  four 
fingers  it  was  a  broad  grin,  and  at  five  was  to  be 
accompanied  by  a  loud  and  artificial  "ha,  ha!" 
When  the  hand  was  shut  it  was  to  be  wiped  off 
and  an  expression  of  solemnity  assumed. 

One  guileless  youth  was  told  that  on  Sunday 
morning  inspection,  when  the  officer  came  around 
to  him,  without  further  preliminaries  he  must  go 
over  the  list  of  photographs  in  his  possession.  The 
officer  in  charge  who  stopped  before  him  was  as- 
tonished when  he  lifted  his  hand  and  saluted  and 

19 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

began  breathlessly:  "One  of  father,  one  of  mother, 
one  of  Aunt  Sarah,  one  of  Jack  and  one  of  Mabel 
.  .  .  . "  The  rest  of  us  standing  by  with  difficulty 
preserved  the  decorum  befitting  the  solemn  cere- 
monial of  Sunday  morning.  The  remarks  of  the 
officer  cannot  properly  be  recorded  on  inflammable 
paper. 

There  was  a  big  six-foot  lumberman  from  some 
place  up  in  Michigan.  In  an  incautious  moment  he 
allowed  one  of  the  upper  classmen  to  get  hold  of 
a  local  paper  which  contained  an  item  something 
like  this:  "We  are  sure  that  the  ruffianly  hazers 
would  not  dare  to  practise  their  cowardly  arts  on 
the  brawny  son  of  Michigan."  It  gave  us  an  ex- 
quisite pleasure,  which  those  who  have  been  boys 
can  appreciate,  to  have  this  particular  item  read 
aloud  by  the  smallest  and  feeblest  midshipman  in 
the  Academy,  while  the  "brawny  son  of  Michigan" 
listened  attentively  to  it  standing  on  his  head  in 
the  corner! 

Another  favorite  dodge  was  to  get  a  cadet  to 
make  a  political  speech.  It  took  two  plebes  to  play 
the  game,  one  of  whom  was  to  be  prompter.  The 
orator  would  be  directed  to  stand  on  the  floor  and 
the  prompter  on  a  chair  back  of  him  with  the  mouth 
of  a  water  pitcher  just  touching  the  collar  of  the 
speaker.  He  would  be  asked  his  politics,  and  if  they 
were  Democratic,  he  would  be  advised  to  make  a 
Republican  speech.  The  prompter  was  requested 
to  pour  water  whenever  the  flow  of  language 
stopped,  consequently  something  was  always  flow- 
ing, water  or  words.  It  was  an  easy  \/ay  of  pro- 

20 


MANNERS    AND    CUSTOMS 

moting  fluency  and  on  some  harrowing  occasions 
in  later  days  I  have  wished  that  some  similar 
prompter  could  only  have  started  my  own  halting 
speech.  The  first  act  of  the  drama  would  be 
thoroughly  enjoyed  by  everyone,  especially  the 
prompter,  but  when  the  positions  were  reversed  and 
the  orator  became  prompter  in  his  turn,  the  situation 
was  truly  delightful. 

Of  course  we  got  punished  for  all  these  things 
and  deservedly.  The  ordinary  punishment  was  the 
giving  of  demerits.  We  didn't  care  much  for 
demerits,  but  unfortunately  there  was  a  limit,  and 
an  additional  demerit  beyond  that  limit  meant  dis- 
missal. Most  of  us  used  to  run  up  a  large  score 
the  first  term  and  then  live  in  fear  and  trembling 
during  the  second  half  year  to  keep  within  the  limit. 
One  cadet  whom  I  knew  best  of  all  received  about 
two  hundred  and  ninety-seven  demerits,  when  the 
limit  was  three  hundred!  This  was  six  weeks 
before  term  time.  For  those  six  weeks  that  boy 
was  a  saint.  I  have  never  despaired  of  his  ultimate 
salvation  since  that  period. 

A  certain  number  of  demerits  also  reduced  one 
to  the  fourth  conduct  grade.  We  were  all  normally 
allowed  to  draw  one  dollar  a  month  out  of  our 
salary  for  spending  at  pleasure.  The  man  who  was 
in  the  first  conduct  grade  got  his  monthly  dollar, 
the  man  of  the  second  grade  received  seventy-five 
cents,  in  the  third  grade,  fifty  cents,  and  in  the 
fourth,  nothing.  Many  of  us  got  nothing,  most  of 
the  time.  For  more  serious  offences  extra  drills, 
facetiously  called  "elective  courses  in  infantry," 

21 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

which  took  place  in  the  only  holiday  time,  Satur- 
day afternoon,  were  inflicted. 

For  still  graver  infractions  of  discipline  a  period 
on  the  guard-ship  Santee  was  awarded,  which  some- 
times included  a  week  of  solitary  confinement  in 
a  stateroom  with  a  seaman  guarding,  cutlass  in 
hand.  I  know  one  cadet  who  out  of  his  four-years 
term  managed  to  spend  over  one  on  the  Santee  at 
different  intervals !  The  guests  on  the  Santee,  who 
usually  formed  an  exceedingly  congenial  crowd  of 
choice  spirits,  were  obliged  to  attend  all  drills  and 
recitations,  but  aside  from  that  were  not  permitted 
to  leave  the  ship,  and  were  sometimes  required  to 
stand  watch  from  ten  o'clock  to  midnight  in  ad- 
dition. 

The  ranking  cadet  on  the  extra  drill  list  com- 
manded the  squad,  which  numbered  anywhere  from 
two  to  a  hundred.  They  used  to  say  that  upper 
classmen  whose  merits  had  not  been  sufficiently  ap- 
preciated by  the  authorities  to  have  received  a  cadet 
rank  used  to  get  on  the  list  merely  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  exercising  command. 

On  one  occasion  an  extra  drill  squad  consisting 
of  two  fourth-class  men,  the  writer  among  the 
number,  and  two  first-class  men  was  divided  into 
two  battalions.  I  was  one,  my  classmate  the  other, 
each  of  us  commanded  by  a  first-class  man.  In  the 
presence  of  all  the  rest  of  the  cadets  and  a  large 
number  of  spectators,  we  gave  a  dress  parade, 
skirmish  drill,  sham  battle,  charge  with  a  cheer,  etc. 
One  battalion  was  even  detailed  to  buy  peanuts  dur- 
ing a  rest,  and  we  had  a  high  time  until  the  arrival 

22 


MANNERS    AND    CUSTOMS 

of  the  commandant  put  an  end  to  the  farce.  I  shall 
never  forget  the  awe-inspiring  effect  of  a  bayonet 
charge  executed  by  one  lone  cadet,  madly  cheering 
and  careering  over  the  parade  ground  before  ap- 
plauding hundreds ! 

Speaking  of  drills,  the  commanding  officer  one 
day  placed  a  bright,  shining  new  fifty-cent  piece 
on  the  parade  ground.  A  fifty-cent  piece  to  a 
fourth-grade  man,  the  class  which  was  largely  pre- 
dominant in  the  ranks,  opened  vistas  of  unlimited 
pleasure.  That  battalion,  for  over  an  hour,  was 
marched  up  and  down  and  over  and  across  that 
fifty-cent  piece.  It  was  furtively  kicked  and  wished 
for  and  longed  for,  and  drills  were  executed  amid 
feverish  excitement. 

When  the  ranks  were  broken  and  the  rifles  put 
up  in  their  racks,  there  was  a  wild  rush  of  the  whole 
four  hundred  to  the  parade  ground.  We  reached 
there  in  time  to  see  the  officer  who  had  lingered 
purposely,  pick  up  his  fifty-cent  piece  and  coolly 
walk  away !  The  disappointment  was  awful ! 

The  accomplishments  would  not  be  neglected, 
either,  in  our  curriculum.  We  had  a  little  fat  Italian 
dancing-master,  who  must  have  looked  forward  to 
his  weekly  session  with  the  fourth  class  as  the  most 
horrible  experience  of  his  life.  We  had  such  diffi- 
culty in  comprehending  his  words  and  methods! 
Even  those  who  could  trip  the  light  fantastic  pass- 
ably well,  alone,  found  themselves  possessed  of  a 
strange  stupidity  when  he  essayed  to  put  them 
through  the  waltz. 

Every  other  week  we  had  a  stag  hop,  at  which 

23 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

the  boys  who  were  the  best  dancers  were  regular 
belles.  In  the  alternate  weeks  the  ladies  were  in- 
vited, and  the  misogynists  stayed  in  quarters.  There 
were  several  "twelve  o'clock  balls,"  and  an  annual 
ball,  which  cost  a  great  deal  of  money,  to  pay  for 
which  certain  amounts  were  reserved  for  four  years 
out  of  the  pay  of  each  cadet — with  their  consent, 
of  course,  and  by  their  desire.  They  were  very 
gorgeous  affairs,  looked  forward  to  during  the  year, 
and  attended  by  beauties  and  belles  from  all  over 
the  country.  I  have  been  back  at  graduation  several 
times  since  my  period,  and  it  seems  to  me  they  grow 
in  gorgeousness  with  every  recurring  year. 

The  fencing-master  was  an  old  Frenchman,  and 
it  was  no  mockery  to  call  him  a  master  of  his 
weapon.  He  used  to  give  us  the  single  stick  exer- 
cise, for  instance,  and  then  innocently  call  out  any 
six  of  us  to  come  at  him  at  once.  A  brief  melee 
would  result  in  six  bruised  heads,  of  which  the 
fencing-master's  was  never  one.  The  position  of 
a  fencer  requires  that  the  right  leg  should  be  thrust 
forward,  the  lower  limb  from  the  knee  down  being 
perpendicular.  While  practicing  with  broadswords 
one  day,  a  certain  cadet  thought  he  had  discovered 
a  new,  brilliant  attack.  Rapidly  disengaging  he 
would  drop  down  and  viciously  cut  at  the  extended 
right  leg  below  the  knee.  A  blow  on  the  shins  is 
not  a  pleasant  one,  and  the  cut  was  invariably  suc- 
cessful. The  man  with  whom  that  cadet  would 
fence  could  never  turn  his  sword  blade  quickly 
enough  to  parry  the  stroke. 

The  old  Frenchman  watched  the  performance  for 
24 


MANNERS    AND    CUSTOMS 

some  time,  and  he  finally  called  upon  the  ambitious 
youth  to  try  the  stroke  upon  him,  while  the  rest 
of  the  class  looked  on.  Everybody  knew  that  some- 
thing was  coming,  but  what  it  was  nobody  could 
imagine.  At  any  rate  the  cadet  made  the  attempt 
boldly.  At  the  proper  moment  he  dropped  down 
like  a  flash,  and  made  a  swoop  with  his  blade  at 
that  right  leg  which  would  have  taken  it  off  if  it 
had  only  struck.  The  sword  only  cut  the  air.  In- 
stead of  attempting  the  impossible  parry  the  pro- 
fessor straightened  himself,  deftly  threw  back  his 
leg,  and  with  all  the  force  of  his  arm  brought  down 
his  sword  upon  the  padded  head  mask  of  his  un- 
witting victim.  The  blow  was  so  strong  that  I 
found  myself  sitting  on  the  ground  in  a  dazed  con- 
dition, the  rest  of  the  class  vociferously  cheering 
near  by.  I  had  been  nearly  driven  through  the  floor. 


CHAPTER   III 

The  Story  of  a  Hero 

A  Soldier  of  Fortune  Indeed.— The  Honor  of  a  Sailor.— 
Captain  McGiffin  and  the  Battle-ship  Chen  Yuen  at  the 
Battle  of  the  Yalu.— An  Historic  Letter  to  His  Mother.— 
"A  Broken  and  a  Contrite  Heart."— Left  Angled  Triangles. 
—A  Fighter  Rather  than  a  Scholar.— "Man  the  Boards."— 
Bound  to  be  Seen. — Even  a  Theological  School! 

THE  cadet  at  the  Academy  during  my  time  there 
who  rose  to  the  greatest  prominence  subse- 
quently was  Philo  Norton  McGiffin,  of  Pennsylva- 
nia, one  of  the  finest  fellows  that  ever  drew  a  sword ; 
full  of  fun,  kindly  of  heart,  high  of  soul,  gallant 
of  spirit.  When  he  was  graduated  from  the  Acad- 
emy, he  resigned  from  the  service  and  entered  the 
Chinese  Navy,  where  he  soon  rose  to  high  rank, 
and  rendered  efficient  service  in  the  Chinese  school 
for  naval  officers. 

He  was  a  striking  modern  example  of  the  ancient 
and  honorable  guild  of  soldiers  of  fortune.  When 
he  was  a  lad  he  gained  distinction,  during  the  ter- 
rible Pittsburg  railroad  riots,  by  his  courage  in 
running  an  engine  under  circumstances  of  great 
personal  danger.  At  the  Academy  he  saved  the  life 
of  some  children  from  a  burning  building  out  in 
the  town.  While  in  the  service  of  the  Chinese  there 
occurred  a  little  war  with  France.  The  one  solitary 

26 


THE    STORY    OF   A    HERO 

Chinese  success  of  that  war  was  the  capture  of  a 
French  gun-boat  by  a  Chinese  junk,  the  crew  of 
which  was  commanded  by  McGiffin. 

At  the  famous  battle  of  the  Yalu,  between  the 
Chinese  and  the  Japanese,  McGiffin  commanded  the 
Chen  Yuen,  one  of  the  two  battle-ships  which  suc- 
cessfully withstood,  and  finally  drove  off,  the  whole 
Japanese  fleet.  He  had  resigned  his  position  some 
time  before  the  war  broke  out,  and  was  on  his  way 
home,  but  his  honor  would  not  permit  him  to  desert 
in  time  of  war  the  poor  people  whose  bread  he  had 
eaten  in  time  of  peace;  so  he  returned  and  resumed 
command  of  his  ship — which  was  a  lucky  thing  for 
the  Chinese. 

He  displayed  the  most  desperate  courage  in  that 
memorable  battle,  where  he  was  wounded  time  and 
again.  He  came  out  of  the  action  frightfully 
burned,  with  both  ear-drums  shattered  and  his  eyes 
so  affected  that  he  could  not  see  without  lifting  the 
lids  with  his  hands.  He  was  covered  with  blood, 
his  clothing  was  torn  from  his  body  and  his  nervous 
system  was  completely  wrecked.  During  the  action 
a  vulnerable  part  *of  his  ship  was  set  on  fire.  In 
spite  of  the  fact  that  the  clever  Japanese  hurled  a 
rain  of  rapid-fire  projectiles  upon  the  burning  spot 
— to  encourage  the  flames — he  leaped  to  it,  followed 
by  a  few  plucky  Chinese,  and  put  out  the  fire.  At 
that  moment  his  own  men  fired  one  of  the  twelve- 
and-a-half -inch  guns  of  his  battle-ship  right  over 
his  head,  knocking  him  senseless. 

History  tells  few  more  blood-stirring  stories  of 
naval  enterprise  than  McGiffin's  hard  fighting  at  the 

27 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND   TENTS 

Yalu.  No  one  in  the  long  roll  of  American  seamen 
who  have  distinguished  themselves  by  skill  and  dar- 
ing has  ever  exhibited  more  heroism  and  courage 
than  he.  I  put  his  name  by  the  side  of  Decatur, 
Gushing,  and  Hobson.  The  story  of  the  way  he 
fought  his  battle-ship  that  great  day  savors  of  the 
incredible. 

Lest  what  I  say  should  be  questioned,  I  have 
secured  permission  from  the  mother  of  my  friend 
— proud  am  I  to  write  those  words — to  insert  here 
a  copy  of  the  letter  he  wrote  to  her  as  soon  as  he 
was  able  after  the  battle  was  over.  It  is  a  rare 
historic  document,  this  frank,  yet  modest,  statement 
of  a  glorious  hour  by  a  young  man  to  his  aged 
mother.  The  original  letter  is  feebly  written  in 
pencil  on  scraps  of  paper,  and  its  continuity  is  much 
broken  by  the  suffering  he  was  enduring  when  he 
wrote  it.  He  evidently  wrote  a  little  of  it,  then 
stopped  and  rested  and  then  wrote  a  little  more, 
and  so  on.  His  sister  informs  me  that  ....  "His 
wounds  were  more  serious  than  he  at  first  imagined, 
and  a  bone  was  broken  in  his  face  when  he  threw 
himself  to  the  deck  to  save  his  life  from  that  gun — 
and  there  was  another  wound  that  never  healed. 
Another  piece  of  shell  came  out  thirteen  months 
after  the  battle,  and  he  lost  flesh  until  he  was  a 
shadow  of  his  former  self  when  he  died.  I  am 
sure  that  few,  if  any,  had  any  conception  of  what 
his  sufferings  were,  for  he  was  always  trying  to 
conceal  his  feelings,  and  would  say  he  was  Very 
well/  when  he  knew  he  was  anything  else.  He 
had  written  an  article  on  China  which,  with  some 

28 


THE    STORY    OF   A   HERO 

of  the  manuscript,  was  stolen  from  the  New  York 
Hospital,  where  he  died.  Other  things  were  taken, 
too;  I  do  not  know  who  was  to  blame.  The  loss 
of  this  manuscript  we  regret  exceedingly.  ...  I 
never  saw  death  so  beautiful,  the  expression  was  of 
perfect  peace.  I  wish  all  his  friends  could  have 
looked  at  him  in  that  last  sleep." 
Here  is  the  letter: 

S.  S.  PAO-TING, 

At  sea  from  Tientsin  to  Chefoo, 
September  23,  1894. 

MY  DEAREST  MOTHER  :  The  greatest  naval  battle  of 
the  century  is  over  and  I  am  alive — thank  God.  I  had 
many  marvellous  escapes.  I  am  not  such,  a  fool  as  to 
believe  the  Creator  takes  such  an  interest  in  poor  me 
as  to  go  and  turn  aside  a  shell — nor  do  I  think  he  hates 
me  enough  to  fire  one  at  me;  but  I  had  some  close 
shaves. 

I  cannot  write  much  now.  Besides,  you  will  get  it 
in  the  papers,  for  I've  had  more  people  to  see  me  and 
question  me !  I  arrived  in  Tientsin  from  Port  Arthur 
on  Thursday  eve.  by  the  Chen  Lung,  a  little  tow-boat 
under  British  flag  that  sneaked  in  and  out  of  Port 
Arthur  Wednesday  night  with  lights  all  out,  etc.,  and 
so  got  off  without  any  Japs  gobbling  us.  They'd  have 
liked  dearly  to  have  captured  us  poor  foreign  devils. 
At  Tientsin  I  was  taken  on  board  the  U.  S.  S.  Monoc- 
acy,  and  welcomed,  and  Dr.  dressed  my  wounds. 

I  can't  write  much  as  my  eye  is  weak.  One  is 
"closed  for  repairs" — will  be  all  right  soon.  I  will 
not  tell  you  now  of  what  we  did  before,  only  say,  on 
Monday,  Sept.  17th,  we  were  at  Ya  Lu  Tan  (boundary 
between  Corea  and  China,  Long.  124  E.),  where  we 
had  convoyed  5  transports  of  troops,  60  pieces  of  ar- 
tillery, 10  batteries,  and  600  horses,  etc.  About  noon 
we  saw  lots  of  smoke  to  southward,  so  quickly  weighed 

29 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

and  stood  to  meet  them,  cleared  for  action,  10  of  us 
against  12  Japs.  All  had  our  big  Chinese  flag  at  our 
mainmast  and  one  at  gaff  At  12.20  the  Ting  Yuen 
opened  fire  and  we  followed  (5,000  yards,  a  very  easy 
range)  ;  a  minute  after  the  Japs  opened,  and  then 
there,  was  a  hell  of  shot  and  shell. 

I  had  my  kodak  on  the  bridge  and  stayed  there  when 
fire  was  opened  for  10  minutes  or  so.  I  took  7  photos : 
two  of  us  and  one  of  Japs  .just  before  we  opened  fire, 
then  3  of  the  Japs  as  they  were  firing  at  us.  As  I 
"pressed  the  button"  for  the  third,  the  Japs  did  the 
rest  by  flipping.the  camera  out  of  my  hand  by  the  wind 
of  a  shot  a  few  feet  off.  I  got  it  before  it  tumbled  off 
the  bridge,  set  it,  and  took  that  and  a  fourth.  Then 
a  shell  ripped  up  the  bridge  near  and  I  put  it  in  the 
case.  As  I  stood  up,  the  wind  of  a  shot  very  near 
twisted  me  about — on  the  right  side,  fortunately,  else 
I  would  have  gone  over  the  bridge  to  the  deck — thirty 
feet  below. 

Then  I  went  in  to  the  Conning  Tower.  I  had 
cotton  in  my  ears  and  gave  a  bit  to  the  quarter-master, 
etc.,  and  we  needed  it,  for  many  big  shells  struck  the 
tower  and  the  noise  and  concussion  was  awful.  .  .  I 
was  relieved  to  find  myself  not  frightened,  but  almost 
as  cool  as  I  am  now.  I  will  not  talk-  tactics  to  you, 
but  only  say  we  fired  and  they  fired — a  hailstorm  of 
shell  and  good  practice  on  both  sides — it  was  a  great 
responsibility  I  had;  my  Chinese  colleague  cheerfully 
gave  me  the  brunt  of  it,  but  he  did  well  after  I  was 
hurt,  so  no  matter. 

A  message  would  come  up  "Captain,  the  turrets  are 
jammed,"  "Capt,  we  can  get  no  powder  up,"  etc.,  etc. 
Several  times  I  had  to  leave  the  C.  T.  and  go  into  the 
barbettes  and  cheer  the  men,  who  were  doing  manfully, 
etc.  Then  "Capt.,  the  ship  is  on  fire  at  the  foremast!" 
(A  dreadful  place  on  our  ship  for  reasons.)  I  said, 
"Send  an  officer  and  fire  party  and  put  it  out."  Next, 
"The  men  won't  go  to  put  it  out,  too  much  shoot." 

30 


THE   STORY    OF   A   HERO 

I  found,  as  I  suspected,  that  no  officer  would  go,  and 
the  men,  of  course,  never  like  to  go  alone,  so  I  swore 
softly  (feeling  that  under  the  circumstances  it  would 
be  forgiven  me),  and  left  Yang  in  the  C.  T.  and  called 
for  volunteers  to  go  with  me  on  the  forecastle.  A 
number  of  gallant  fellows  at  once  came  and  said,  "Yes, 
anywhere  you  go  we'll  follow  you" — and  I  knew  they 
would  do  it.  So  as  the  starboard  barbette  was  firing 
her  two  12^-in.  rifles  over  the  port  bow,  too,  I  sent 
a  lieutenant  in  thro'  to  it  to  stop  the  fire  until  I  and 
my  men  got  away.  He  didn't  get  there  as  you'll  see.* 
We  went  around  under  the  muzzles  of  the  port  \2l/2- 
in.  guns  and  climbed  upon  the  T.  G.f  forecastle.  Here 
the  foremast  (of  steel)  was  blazing  furiously — i.e., 
the  tarred  rigging  and  woodwork  about — and  I  saw 
it  was  serious.  I  saw  the  muzzles  of  the  big  Stb.  $ 
guns  also  moving,  but  I  didn't  care. 

They  passed  up  the  hose.  I  bent  over,  and  was  pull- 
ing it  up  with  my  hands  from  over  the  edge  when  a 
shot,  shell,  or  fragment,  came  between  my  wrists,  and 
clipped  a  bit  from  each  forearm — not  enough  to  make 
me  let  go,  tho' ;  I  hauled  on  and  got  a  slap  on  the  left 
groin,  of  no  account,  and  then  in  about  two  minutes  (it 
may  have  been  20— one  can't  tell)  I  saw  a  vivid  glare 
in  front,  and  a  horrible  feeling  for  about  nnnniWrnr 
of  a  second,  when  I  was  hurled  to  the  deck,  and — 
here  I  wish  to  say  that,  Sunday-School  books  "to  the 
contrary  notwithstanding" — all  the  events  of  my  life 
did  not  pass  in  review  before  my  agonized  brain — 
"Au  Contraire,"  I  just  thought  "this  is  death,"  and 
knew  no  more. 

But  the  hose  fell  on  top  of  me,  and  as  it  was  leaking 
(shot  through),  I  revived  in  a  very  few  seconds  feel- 
ing— oh,  how  can  I  say — but  here  I  saw  only  ten  feet 
away  the  big  hungry  muzzle  of  a  stb.J  12j^-in.  rifle 

*  The  man  was  killed  en  route. 
f  Top-gallant. 
j  Starboard. 

31 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND   TENTS 

looking  just  at  me.  I  saw  it  lift  its  muzzle  an  inch 
or  two,  then  swing  right  and  left  a  few  inches,  and 
it  flashed  across  me  that  they  were  aiming  the  gun, 
and,  of  course,  as  the  gun  is  nearly  six  feet  in  diameter 
at  the  breech  poor  me  could  not  be  seen,  and  as  we 
usually  fired  after  a  very  quick  aim,  I  felt  a  sort  of 
hopeless  shrinking  kind  of  shudder,  and  I  think  for  a 
moment  covered  my  eyes  with  my  left  hand  and  waited. 
Then  I  thought,  let's  try,  and  rolled  for  the  edge  and 
dropped  over  the  side  on  to  the  deck  below  just  as 
I  heard  and  felt  the  gun  go  off  over  my  head. 

There  I  was  not  much  better,  and  I  did  so  much 
want  to  faint,  but  I  held  up  and  staggered  around  to 
the  other  side — there  was  no  safe  side,  for  shell  came 
in  everywhere,  but  I  could  at  least  be  safe  from  our 
own  fire  here.  You  see  one  of  our  own  big  guns  had 
gone  off,  and  we  were  about  15  feet  in  front,  and  6 
feet  to  the  left  of  it  (1,200  pounds  of  powder  charge). 
Just  then,  also,  a  Jap  shell  burst  in  front  of  us  about 
eight  or  ten  feet.  Every  one  of  my  party  of  volunteers 
was  hit  either  by  the  shell  or  the  gun — I  had  [received 
injury]  from  both.  My  trousers  were  blown  right  into 
ribbons,  and  even  a  new  pair  of  strong  cotton  drawers 
blown  into  strips.  My  tunic  also  had  holes  blown  thro* 
it,  the  black  satin  trimmings  and  mohair  braid  ripped 
off,  the  coat  burnt  brown  or  white,  and  the  gold  stripes 
on  the  sleeves  burnt  white  nearly ;  my  cap  I  never  saw 
again.  As  for  me,  I  was  cruelly  burnt,  my  hair  singed 
off  my  head,  ditto  eyebrows,  eyelashes,  and  right  half 
of  moustache,  and  my  right  eye  and  side  burnt  badly. 
My  eye  is  O.  K.,  let  me  say  right  here,  so  don't  bother. 
Then  you  must  know  that  one  could  not  ^have  his 
clothes  blown  to  pieces  on  him,  to  say  O*  of  burns, 
without  a  shock.  I  was  spitting  blood,  and  passed 
from  one  fainting  fit  into  another  rapidly,  only  recov- 
ering thro'  the  horrible  agony  I  was  in  from  my  burns 

*  Naught 

32 


THE    STORY    OF   A    HERO 

and  eyes.  But  a  poor  fellow  next  me  had  his  eyes 
blown  out  of  his  head,  so  I  must  not  boast. 

The  poor  fellows — every  one  of  the  volunteers  was 
hit  and  killed  or  wounded — an  unlucky  picnic,  truly. 
Well,  the  wounded  are  supposed  to  be  passed  down 
under  the  turrets  inside  of  the  armor,  but  I  could  not 
climb  up  into  the  barbette,  and  no  one  could  be  spared 
to  come  to  me  as  they  saw  me  lying  apparently  dying, 
and  thought  from  the  look  of  my  clothes  that  there 
could  be  no  hope.  Presently  a  sailor  saw  me  and  came 
to  me,  then  a  party  of  powder  men  took  me  and  laid 
me  on  a  sofa  in  my  salon.  .  .  .  I  lay  in  most  awful 
pain,  my  condition  was  truly  pitiable,  nearly  blind, 
burnt,  half  naked,  parched  with  thirst,  wounded  in 
both  wrists  and  on  the  hip,  and  my  lungs  shocked  as 
if  all  the  wind  was  out,  as  happens  sometimes  to  a 
school-boy  when  a  ball  hits  him.  I  got  some  brandy 
— it  tasted  like  water.  I  encouraged  the  men  all  I 
could.  I  sometimes  got  outside,  and  holding  my  eye 
open  with  fingers  saw  how  we  were  doing.  I  really 
cannot  write  more. 

We  fought  six  hours,  from  12.20  to  6.20.  I  had  no 
doctor,  from  3.30  or  4,  when  I  was  wounded,  till  9.30 
P.M.  You  see  I  was  not  under  cover,  and  he  didn't 
like  the  idea,  sma  wonder ;  we  were  hit  over  400  times ! 

We  lost  four  s!  ;ps.  Of  seven  foreigners  in  the  fight, 
4  wounded,  2  kiL  -\,  1  engineer  in  engine-room  unhurt. 
The  Chih-Yuen  (Capt.  Tang)  I  brought  out  from 
England  went  down,  not  a  soul  saved — poor  Purvis  on 
her  (Chief  Engineer).  We  gave  the  Japs  some  hard 
punches.  I  am  en  route  to  Chefoo  to  be  nursed  a  little 
until  I  am  able  to  rejoin,  my  ship  and  take  it  out  of 
them  for  what  they've  done. 

My  love  to  all,  and  lots  to  yourself,  Mother  darling 
—don't  worry— "The  Prodigal  Son"*  '11  be  O.  K., 
never  fear.  And  if  I  don't,  remember  it  is  a  point  of 

*  He  oftener  signed  his  letters  to  his  mother  "The  Prodigal 
Son"  than  in  any  other  way.  It  seems  to  give  an  additional 
touch  of  pathos  to  it  all. 

33 


UNDER    TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

honor  for  me  to  have  joined ;  after  ten  years  of  service 
it  would  be  mean  to  go !  My  eyes  are  both  open  and 
I  can  see,  only  I  have  to  give  the  "lame-duck"  of  an 
eye  a  rest.  The  burns  are  healing  up,  and  they  say 
will  leave  no  scars  nor  blushes.  Fancy  a  blush  on  me 
— me,  that  wicked 

"PRODIGAL  SON." 

He  never  recovered  from  this  dreadful  experi- 
ence, and  after  more  than  two  years  of  great  suf- 
fering he  died  from  the  effects  of  his  wounds. 

This  is  the  inscription  on  his  tombstone: 

PHILO  NORTON  McGIFFIN 

Dec.  15th,  1860-Feb.  llth,  1897. 

Commander  of  the  Chinese  Battle-ship 

CHEN  YUEN. 
At  the  Battle  of  the  Yalu 

September  17th,  1894. 

"A  broken  and  a  contrite  heart, 

O  God,  Thou  wilt  not  despise." 

This  tablet  is  erected  in  tender  memory 

of  a  brave  man  who  loved  his  own,  but 

gave  his  life  for  an  alien  flag. 

That  verse  from  the  fifty-first  Psalm  was  placed 
on  the  stone  by  his  explicit  direction  in  his  will,  in 
which  he  also  expressed  his  desire  to  be  buried  by 
United  States  sailors.  The  same  text  was  heavily 
marked  in  his  prayer-book,  as  was  the  "Prayer  to 
be  said  before  a  Fight  at  sea  against  any  enemy."* 
Opposite  this  beautiful  petition  he  had  written  the 
following:  "Chen  Yuen  (H.  I.  M.  S.),t  off  Yalu 
River — noon,  September  17,  1894." 

*  Page  307,  Standard  Episcopal  Prayer-book. 
fHis  Imperial  Majesty's  ship. 

34 


THE    STORY    OF   A   HERO 

I  seem  to  be  treading  on  hallowed  ground  when 
I  consider  his  use  of  the  prayer  before  the  battle. 
He  was  not  what  is  commonly  known  as  a  very 
religious  man  and  that  prayer  means  much.  It 
reminds  me  of  Nelson  in  the  cabin  of  the  Victory 
before  Trafalgar.  Surely  "A  broken  and  a  contrite 
heart,  O  God,  Thou  wilt  not  despise." 

But,  to  turn  back  to  the  merry  young  fellow  of 
early  days;  on  one  occasion  I  was  on  the  Santee 
with  him  for  some  months  and  there  got  to  know 
him  very  well.  To  know  him  well  was  to  love  him. 
There  was  a  fellow  on  the  Santee  with  us  then,  we 

will  call  him  X ,  who  was  four  years  in  one  class 

and  was  without  doubt  the  most  stupid  man  who 
ever  attempted  to  go  through  the  Academy.  He 

never  did  get  through  the  fourth  class.  X and 

McGiffin  and  I  were  walking  up  to  recitation  one 
morning  when  X asked  McGiffin  what  the  les- 
son in  geometry  was  that  day. 

"It  is  about  the  three  kinds  of  triangles,  X ," 

said  McGiffin,  guilelessly,  giving  me  a  nudge 

"What  are  they,  old  man?"  queried  X . 

"Well,"  said  McGiffin,  "there  are  right-angled 
triangles  like  this,"  turning  to  the  right  and  draw- 
ing imaginary  lines  in  the  air ;  "left-angled  triangles 
like  this,"  turning  to  the  left  and  repeating  the  pro- 
cess, "and  isosceles,"  which  he  described.  X 

applied  to  me  for  confirmation — and  received  it,  of 
course — and  we  tutored  him  all  the  way  to  the  class- 
room in  those  various  kinds  of  triangles. 

The  officer  in  charge  of  the  section  that  day  was 
a  man  who  had  a  distinguished  record  in  the  war 

35 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND   TENTS 

of  the  Rebellion,  and  was  more  noted  for  his  per- 
sonal courage  than  his  knowledge  of  mathematics. 
For  instance,  whenever  a  cadet  deviated  from  the 
book  lettering  in  demonstrating  a  geometrical  prob- 
lem, he  was  accustomed  to  say  that  he  wished  we 
would  confine  ourselves  to  the  letters  of  the  book 
figures,  on  the  plea  that  Mr.  Chauvenet,  the  author 
of  the  geometry,  had  spent  a  great  deal  of  time 
and  taken  much  care  in  getting  that  book  up,  and 
that  we  could  hardly  improve  on  his  lettering  or 
figures ! 

When  we  entered  the  recitation-room  this  very 
nautical  officer  used  to  give  the  command,  "Man 
the  boards,  gentlemen !"  We  manned  them  by  tak- 
ing our  places  at  the  black-boards.  The  first  ques- 
tion, which  was  given  to  X ,  was  the  naming 

and  describing  the  different  kinds  of  triangles. 

X made  beautiful  figures  on  the  black-board — 

that  was  the  limit  of  his  capacity — and  when  his 
time  came  to  recite  he  rattled  off  the  different  trian- 
gles, right,  left,  and  isosceles,  as  he  had  learned 
them! 

"Ahem!"  said  the  officer,  looking  carefully  from 
him  to  the  book,  "Mr.  Chauvenet  doesn't  say  any- 
thing about  it,  but  the  distinction  you  have  drawn 
appears  to  be  a  very  nice  one.  That  will  do, 


sir." 


So  X made  a  very  much  better  recitation 

and  got  a  very  much  higher  mark  on  that  occasion 
than  either  McGiffin  or  I  received! 

While  he  was  on  the  Santee  he  was  asked  to  act 
as  referee  in  a  fistic  encounter  between  two  cadets 

36 


THE    STORY    OF   A    HERO 

who  were  desirous  of  availing  themselves  of  his 
known  skill  in  such  matters.  The  fight  was  to  take 
place  in  the  free  hour  after  supper.  The  only  way 
McGiffin  could  be  present  would  be  by  getting  on 
the  sick  list  for  the  night  and  thus  be  allowed  to 
remain  in  his  quarters.  He  went  over  to  the  surgeon 
— Dr.  Ruth — and  made  a  desperate  bluff. 

"Put  out  your  tongue,"  said  the  doctor. 

It  was  a  fearful  looking  tongue,  white  and 
ghastly. 

"Put  it  in,"  said  the  doctor.  "Now  tell  me  the 
truth.  What  did  you  put  on  it?" 

"Tooth  powder,  sir,"  answered  McGiffin. 

"What  did  you  want  to  get  on  the  sick  list  for?" 

"I  am  to  referee  a  fight  after  supper,  sir,  and 
I  cannot  stay  in  the  building  unless  I  am  sick." 

The  doctor's  eyes  twinkled. 

"If  I  put  you  on,  McGiffin,"  he  said,  "will  you 
report  yourself  cured  in  the  morning?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  would-be  referee,  chok- 
ing over  the  tooth  powder. 

"Very  well,  you  are  on.    You  may  go." 

Tne  white  canvas  blouses,  or  "jumpers,"  we  wore 
in  seamanship  and  other  practical  exercises  were 
supposed  to  be  marked  across  the  breast  in  legible 
lettering  with  our  respective  surnames.  Having  a 
new  blouse  and  being  in  a  hurry  on  one  occasion, 
McGiffin  simply  scribbled  his  name  on  it  in  pencil 
and  was  reported  for  "not  having  name  on  jumper 
in  sufficiently  large  letters."  When  he  next  ap- 
peared in  it  his  name  was  printed  in  letters  nearly 
a  foot  high,  which  began  in  the  small  of  his  back 

37 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

and  went  all  the  way  around !  There  was  no  mis- 
taking him  after  that. 

The  world  knows  the  worth  and  honors  the  de- 
votion of  the  Naval  Academy  graduates  who  remain 
in  the  service — their  exploits  are  a  part  of  history 
— but  the  connection  with  the  school  of  many  who 
have  resigned  from  the  Navy  and  have  devoted 
themselves  to  peaceful  pursuits,  is  sometimes  for- 
gotten. In  the  catalogue  of  my  memory  are  the 
names  of  authors,  two  at  least,  of  much  more  than 
local  note — Churchill  and  Benjamin — artists,  phy- 
sicians, lawyers  galore,  scientists,  inventors,  electri- 
cians, soldiers! — one  being  the  efficient  Adjutant- 
General  of  the  National  Guard  of  a  great  State 
— manufacturers,  ship-builders,  diplomatists,  states- 
men, not  to  speak  of  the  able  manager  of  the  gas- 
works of  one  great  city,  a  leading  politician  in  the 
most  remarkable  municipal  organization  of  modern 
times  in  another,  and  last  and  least,  an  indifferent 
preacher — the  writer. 

Moral — if  you  want  to  make  your  sons  anything 
good — send  them  to  the  Naval  Academy.* 

^  *At  a  meeting  of  the  Philadelphia  branch  of  the  United 
States  Naval  Academy  Alumni  Association,  on  my  motion  it 
was  resolved  that  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy  be  requested  to 
name  one  of  the  new  torpedo-boats  McGiffin.  This  would  be 
indeed  a  fitting  tribute  to  his  valor  and  his  skill,  and  as  his 
training  was  purely  and  entirely  from  the  Academy,  it  would 
be  an  acceptable  recognition  of  its  value. 


CHAPTER   IV 

In  and  Out  of  the  Class-room 

Amateur  Mathematicians. — Foot-pounds  by  Order. — Captain 
Mahan's  Fluent  Language. — Greater  than  Manila. — An 
Association  of  Chefs.— A  Real  Spread.— Taking  it  Ex- 
ternally.—Give  Him  Air.— The  Most  Beautiful.— Unhandy 
with  a  Gun. — Attached  to  the  Santee. — Embracing  Venus. 
— A  Demonstration  of  Feeling. — The  Descendant  of  the 
Patroons  Ahead. — Narrow  Quarters. — Contraband  Bottles. 
— New  Use  of  a  "Doctor  Book."— My  First  Christmas. — 
"Spreads/'— Fire.— Sham  Battles.— The  Real  Thing. 

THERE  was  a  certain  officer  who  was  not  noted 
for  his  mathematical  attainments,  who  was 
detailed  to  the  Academy  as  one  of  the  duty  officers, 
who  attended  to  drills  and  discipline,  and  as  a  rule 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  intellectual  part  of  the 
school.  It  was  the  duty  of  the  officer-of-the-day, 
however,  to  take  charge  of  any  recitation  when  the 
officer  appointed  thereto  was  absent.  This  was  a 
recitation  in  integral  calculus,  and  the  cadet  who 
first  recited  had  a  little  equation  which  he  com- 
menced to  explain  in  this  way: 

"D  y  over  d  x  equals " 

"Hold  on !    Mr.  P ,"  said  the  officer  referred 

to,  "I  am  not  very  well  up  in  calculus,  I'll  admit, 
but  I  know  enough  of  mathematics  to  know  that  in 
a  case  like  that  the  proper  thing  for  you  to  do  is  to 
strike  out  the  d's." 

39 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

P carefully  cancelled  the  d's  and  proceeded 

to  demonstrate,  the  rest  of  the  class  looking  glee- 
fully on.  We  had  a  picnic  in  that  recitation. 

Another  officer  is  reported  to  have  sent  a  requi- 
sition to  the  Navy  Department  for  some  "foot- 
pounds" to  be  used  for  his  department.  It  must 
not  be  supposed  from  anything  which  has  been  said 
that  the  capacity  of  the  officer  instructors  and  their 
intellectual  attainments,  as  well  as  the  general  re- 
quirements of  the  Academy,  were  not  of  the  first 
order.  They  were.  Once  in  awhile,  however,  a 
misfit  slipped  in,  and  when  he  did  he  simply  became 
fun  for  the  boys,  until  realizing  the  situation  he  got 
transferred  to  another  department. 

Taking  it  all  in  all  the  education  is  one  of  the 
best  a  young  man  can  receive.  It  makes  a  first- 
class  naval  officer  of  him  or,  as  I  said,  it  fits  him 
for  almost  any  other  profession,  even  that  of  a 
minister  of  the  gospel. 

As  an  example  of  another  kind  of  instructor,  a 
very  distinguished  naval  officer,  since  widely  known 
for  his  books,  Captain  Mahan,  was  in  charge  of 
the  Department  of  Astronomy  and  Navigation  while 
I  was  a  cadet.  He  relieved  old  "Foot-pounds"  one 
day  very  unexpectedly,  and  much  to  the  disappoint- 
ment of  a  section,  which,  anticipating  an  easy  time, 
had  not  prepared  its  lessons.  He  had  an  apt  and 
fluent  command  of  language  and  never  lacked  for 
comparison,  even  though  his  literary  reputation  was 
yet  to  be  made.  I  made  a  horrible  bungle  of  a 
recitation  on  this  occasion,  and  was  blandly  told 
to  take  my  seat,  that  I  knew  absolutely  nothing  about 

40 


IN   AND    OUT    OF    THE    CLASS-ROOM 

the  subject,  that  a  new-born  babe  could  hardly  be 
more  ignorant — which  was  true.  When  the  next 
cadet  essayed  it,  he  did  no  better  than  I.  In  fact, 
when  he  finished  his  attempt,  the  captain  remarked : 

"Well,  Mr.  T ,  I  thought  Mr.  Brady  had 

sounded  the  depths  of  human  ignorance  on  this 
subject,  but  you  know  even  less  about  it  than 
he." 

Speaking  of  able  officers  reminds  me  of  a  brill- 
iant repartee  made  by  one  of  high  rank  the  other 
day  to  a  sneering  Englishman  who  remarked: 

"I  suppose  you  Americans  think  that  Dewey's 
little  fight  the  other  day  at  Manila  was  about  the 
greatest  naval  battle  ever  won?" 

"Oh,  no,"  was  the  good-humored  reply,  "there 
was  a  little  battle  on  Lake  Champlain  some  years 
since,  and  another  on  Lake  Erie  about  the  same 
time,  which  we  think  very  much  greater  battles 
than  Manila!" 

Speaking  of  fun  reminds  me  of  a  society  of  which 
I  was  a  member.  No  Greek  letter  fraternities  are 
allowed  in  the  Academy,  no  secret  society  of  any 
kind  in  fact,  and  this  one  was  a  surreptitious  one. 
It  was  called  "The  Knights  of  the  Golden  Anchor," 
for  what  reason  no  one  could  ever  tell,  for  the 
society  was  a  cooking  club,  pure  and  simple!  We 
had  a  weekly  "orgie,"  the  materials  for  which  would 
be  a  gas-stove,  a  few  oysters  bought,  and  some 
butter,  pepper,  and  salt,  and  dry  bread  abstracted 
with  great  difficulty  from  the  mess-hall.  There 
were  eight  members  in  the  club,  which  held  its 
sessions  after  taps  at  the  rooms  of  the  different 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

members,  when  we  were  all  supposed  to  be  snugly 
ensconced  in  our  beds. 

The  window,  key-hole,  and  transom  of  the  room 
would  be  covered  with  blankets  to  prevent  betray- 
ing light  from  leaking  forth,  and  we  would  have 
fried  oysters  galore.  The  capacity  of  the  tiny  stove 
was  limited  to  six  oysters  at  a  time,  consequently 
two  members  were  perforce  obliged  to  go  hungry 
after  every  frying.  There  was  usually  a  wild 
scramble  for  the  oysters  in  order  to  be  one  of  the 
favored  six  in  every  instance. 

After  conducting  the  club  with  various  vicissi- 
tudes for  some  months  we  determined  to  give  a 
"real  spread."  We  had  saved  up  a  dollar  or  two 
for  the  occasion.  In  addition  to  the  piece  de  re- 
sistance of  the  banquet,  which  was  always  the  six 
oysters  aforesaid,  we  smuggled  pie,  cake,  ice-cream, 
hard-boiled  eggs,  and  other  delicacies  into  our  rooms 
by  the  exercise  of  a  great  deal  of  ingenuity,  and 
we  were  in  full  enjoyment  of  the  feast  on  the  ap- 
pointed night,  when  we  heard  the  heavy  tread  of 
the  officer-of-the-day  coming  along  the  corridor. 

We  tore  down  the  blankets  and  put  out  the  lights. 
Two  cadets  jumped  into  each  bed,  one  got  under 
each  bed,  and  the  last  two  stepped  into  the  ward- 
robe. The  provisions  had  been  frantically  concealed 
in  the  wardrobes,  beds,  and  on  the  floor  at  the  same 
time  with  the  cadets.  The  officer  opened  the  door, 
and  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  was  greeted  by  a 
loud  and  distinct  chorus  of  snores — which  were 
overdone  by  the  way — he  lighted  the  gas  and  re- 
vealed a  picture !  We  were  all  clad  in  robes  de  nuit, 

42 


IN    AND    OUT    OF    THE    CLASS-ROOM 

and  were  covered  with  the  remains  of  the  "spread" 
in  every  conceivable  way.  I  was  standing  with  my 
bare  feet  in  a  cherry  pie  holding  the  gas-stove 
clasped  in  my  arms.  Another  man  was  lying  in 
bed  shivering  amid  several  plates  of  ice-cream,  and 
so  on. 

The  scene  was  too  much  even  for  the  official 
gravity  of  the  officer.  We  never  heard  the  last  of 
that  "spread."  They  used  to  say  that  we  had  taken 
most  of  it  externally.  The  gas-stove  was  confis- 
cated, we  were  disciplined,  and  the  club  was 
broken  up. 

It  was  an  exquisite  pleasure  for  us  to  get  ahead 
of  the  officer-in-charge.  There  was  one  descendant 
of  the  Dutch  patricians  of  the  Hudson  whom  we 
rather  "had  it  in  for."  The  building  in  which  we 
were  quartered  had  a  square  stairway  running 
around  an  area.  On  one  occasion  we  rigged  up  an 
elaborate  dummy  out  of  sticks  of  wood,  straw,  pil- 
lows, and  so  on.  We  dressed  it  in  an  old  cadet 
uniform,  and  having  made  careful  preparation, 
dropped  it  down  the  area  with  a  blood-curdling 
shriek  that  could  have  been  heard  a  mile. 

Those  party  to  the  plot  immediately  formed  them- 
selves into  a  tight  ring  around  the  figure  from 
which  dreadful  groans  of  a  most  heart-rending 
character  apparently  issued.  A  large  number  of 
perfectly  innocent  persons  also  pressed  toward  the 
spot.  The  officer  and  the  marine  orderly  came  tear- 
ing through  the  crowd  in  the  very  best  football  style, 
the  officer  shrieking  "Get  back, 'get  back,  give  him 
air,  make  way !"  When  he  tenderly  raised  the  poor 

43 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

shattered  image  in  his  arms,  the  denouement  was 
excruciating. 

Here  are  some  clever  sayings  by  a  green  young- 
ster who  has  since  made  a  fine  name  for  himself 
in  business  circles.  A  lot  of  the  candidates  were 

being  held  up  by  some  fourth-classmen.  D was, 

of  course,  asked  by  one  of  them  if  he,  the  fourth- 
classman,  was  not  the  best-looking  man  in  the  room. 
D said  yes,  he  was  sure  of  it.  Another  fourth- 
classman  shook  his  fist  under  D 's  nose  and  said, 

"What  do  you  mean?"  D quickly  replied, 

"Well,  I  hadn't  seen  you,  sir!" 

The  first  time  that  D was  put  in  the  bat- 
talion he  was  directly  behind  a  tall  engineer  cadet. 
"Jack"  Soley,  the  infantry  battalion  commander, 
was  double-quicking  us  across  the  plain  at  trail  arms. 
When  he  gave  the  order,  "Halt !"  D ,  in  bring- 
ing his  piece  to  a  carry,  took  a  chunk  of  meat  with 
his  bayonet  from  behind  the  engineer's  ear.  Just 
then  we  had  the  order  "Rest,"  and  the  wounded 
man  turned  around  with  some  strong  adjectives  and 

asked  D what  the  blankety-blank  he  meant  by 

sticking  his  bayonet  into  him.  D 's  reply  was 

characteristic :  "Wall,  lookee  here,  stranger,  I  reckon 
you'll  have  to  excuse  me,  'cause  I  ain't  handy  with 
a  gun  nohow." 

Both  officers  and  cadets  were  required,  by  the 
exigencies  of  the  various  situations  in  which  they 
were  likely  to  find  themselves,  to  keep  their  wits 

constantly  on  duty.  V ,  of  a  class  above  me, 

was  "Santeed"  It  was  in  the  middle  of  winter, 
with  snow  on  the  ground.  Of  course,  at  the  con- 

44 


IN    AND    OUT    OF    THE    CLASS-ROOM 

elusion  of  the  afternoon  study  periods,  V had 

to  report  aboard  ship.  The  battalion  was  being 
formed  and  was  being  inspected  by  Captain  "Jack" 
Miller — a  splendid  officer,  a  rigid  disciplinarian,  and 

yet  we  all  liked  him.  V was  walking  in  the 

rear  of  the  ranks  and  tucking  hunks  of  snow  down 
the  necks  of  the  plebes.  Just  as  he  reached  the  rear 
of  the  left  flank,  Jack  Miller,  who  had  been  inspect- 
ing the  battalion,  ran  plump  into  him  and  caught 
him  red-handed — or  perhaps  I  would  better  say 
white-handed,  since  it  was  snow.  "Where  do  you 
belong,  sir?"  exclaimed  Captain  Miller.  V in- 
stantly replied,  "At  present,  sir,  I  am  attached  to 
the  United  States  ship  Santee" 

Here  is  another  one  on  V .  He  was  within 

three  or  four  numbers  of  his  limit  in  demerits,  and 
being  late  at  roll-call,  as  usual,  he  begged  his  crew 
captain  not  to  "spot"  him.  "Why  not?"  said  the 

captain.  V replied,  "I  am  going  thirty  days 

without  demerits,  for  the  sake  of  pulling  up  my 
conduct  report."  "How  long  have  you  gone?" 
asked  his  captain.  "Just  commenced  this  morn- 
ing," answered  V . 

The  old  Drawing  Academy  was  on  the  fifth  floor 
of  the  new  quarters.  It  was  filled  with  old  plaster 
models  which  greatly  amused  us.  The  head  of  the 
department  had  formed  the  sections  to  march  out 

one  day,  when  he  looked  around  and  caught  V 

kissing  Venus !  Of  course  there  was  a  tremendous 
roar  of  laughter,  but  the  joke  occurred  next  morn- 
ing, when,  reading  the  conduct  report,  the  Cadet- 
Lieutenant-Commander  suddenly  sung  out,  "V 

45 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

embracing  Venus,  Drawing  Academy,  3.50  P.M." 
No  words  were  wasted  in  the  conduct  reports.  They 
were  brief,  and  soulful  as  well — to  everyone  but 
the  victim! 

Here  is  another  one  on  D .  He  was  at  the 

board,  reciting  on  eligibility  for  the  presidency  of 
the  United  States.  The  instructor  said,  "Mr.  Mor- 
gan, what  is  the  application  of  the  sentence,  'or  a 
citizen  of  the  United  States  at  the  time  of  the  adop- 
tion of  this  Constitution?"  D 's  reply  was, 

"Oh,  that  was  put  in  for  those  fellows  that  came 
over  late." 

When  a  class  got  to  feeling  unusually  "frisky" 
and  spirited,  it  would  arrange  to  make  a  demonstra- 
tion. Shot  from  the  miscellaneous  piles  about  the 
yard  would  be  carried  with  painstaking  labor  to  the 
top  floor  after  dark,  the  water  buckets  would  be 
filled  with  sand,  tin  covers  would  be  placed  along 
the  corridors,  and  at  a  given  signal  all  the  gas-lights 
in  the  building  would  be  extinguished  by  the  simple 
expedient  of  a  few  cadets,  from  different  points  of 
vantage,  blowing  through  the  pipes.  Then,  without 
warning,  a  twenty-four-pound  shot  would  be  hurled 
madly  down  the  stairs,  sand  would  be  poured  down 
the  area  in  blinding  clouds,  and  the  most  hideous 
of  all  noises  would  be  made  by  the  scraping  of  the 
bucket  covers  along  the  rough-cast  plaster  of  all 
the  walls  of  the  corridors.  Dumb-bells  would  fly, 
and  if  by  chance  we  could  get  a  pig,  or  a  duck,  or 
a  chicken,  they  would  add  their  clamor  to  the  con- 
fusion. We  did  this  on  one  occasion  for  the  Dutch 
patrician. 


IN    AND    OUT    OF    THE    CLASS-ROOM 

He  was  more  than  equal  to  the  situation,  how- 
ever, for  he  waited  until  we  got  tired,  and  then 
he  had  us  all  down  in  the  hall,  and  paraded  us, 
lightly  clad  and  shivering,  in  the  chill  air,  from 
ten  at  night  to  one  o'clock  in  the  morning  with 
the  remark  that  "we  had  had  our  fun,  he  would 
now  have  his!" 

He  had  it. 

We  slept  two  in  a  room.  The  rooms  were  about 
twelve  feet  square,  one  door  on  the  corridor  and 
one  large  window,  two  iron  beds,  a  square  table, 
a  wardrobe  apiece  with  shelves  on  one  side,  and 
hooks  on  the  other,  two  common  Windsor  chairs 
of  the  kitchen  variety,  two  small  iron  washstands, 
tin  basins,  tin  buckets,  tin  water-carriers  and  a  small 
6X9  looking-glass.  Technical  books  were  piled  on 
top  of  the  wardrobes.  No  ornamentation  of  any 
sort  was  allowed  except  on  the  inside  of  our  ward- 
robe doors,  which  were  profusely  decorated  with 
pictures,  German  favors,  bits  of  ribbon,  locks  of 
hair,  etc.  We  had  to  keep  our  own  rooms  clean, 
week  by  week  in  alternation.  Rooms  were  inspected 
every  day  by  officers  who  had  an  inconvenient  prac- 
tice of  writing  their  names  with  white-gloved  fin- 
gers on  the  table  or  the  lamp-shade  to  see  if  they 
were  clean. 

Of  course,  liquor  was  strictly  contraband,  and 
little  or  none  was  ever  introduced  into  the  Acad- 
emy. The  officers  looked  out  for  it  with  the  great- 
est care — for  the  sake  of  the  law,  not  for  the  liquor 
of  course.  One  unlucky  cadet  had  a  small  bottle 
confiscated  by  a  zealous  officer,  and  he  determined 

47 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

to  get  even.  With  carefully  arranged  negligence  he 
allowed  the  corner  of  a  large  flask  to  protrude  from 
under  the  edge  of  his  pillow.  One  morning  when 
the  officer  in  question  took  his  tour  of  duty  the 
bottle  was  detected.  The  officer  swooped  down 
upon  it  with  great  delight. 

"Aha!"  he  said,  lifting  it  up.  "At  it  again, 

Mr. ,"  and  before  the  cadet,  who  was  on  this 

occasion  slow  of  speech,  could  explain,  he  uncorked 
it — he  was  a  connoisseur  in  bottles,  their  contents 
rather — and  took  a  long,  generous  sniff  of  a  com- 
pound of  sulphuretted  hydrogen,  asafetida,  harts- 
horn, etc. 

"Wha — what  do  you  mean,  sir?"  gasped  the  offi- 
cer, weeping  with  rage  and  other  emotions.  "What 
is  this  infernal  stuff  for?" 

"For  the  toothache,  sir,"  answered  the  cadet, 
meekly. 

"Did  the  doctor  prescribe  it?" 

"No,  sir,"  was  the  reply,  "it  is  a  home-made 
preparation  of  my  grandmother's!" 

Heaven  save  the  old  lady's  reputation,  for  the 
decoction  was  confiscated  at  once. 

One  of  the  brightest  fellows  who  ever  went 

through  the  school  was  S ,  who  was  afterward 

lost  when  the  United  States  Ship  Vandalia  was 
wrecked  in  the  great  hurricane  at  Samoa,  which 

involved  so  many  ships  in  disaster.  S had 

somehow  become  possessed  of  a  small  medical  en- 
cyclopedia, I  think  his  father  was  a  physician,  and 
this  came  from  his  library.  At  any  rate  the  boy 
used  to  study  up  a  varied  lot  of  symptoms  of  some 


IN   AND   OUT   OF   THE    CLASS-ROOM 

strange  and  horrible  disease.  Then  he  would  go 
over  to  the  hospital  and  cleverly  allow  the  young 
assistant  surgeon  to  draw  the  symptoms  from  him. 
Then  in  great  consternation  he  would  be  placed  on 
the  sick  list,  treated  and  cured  of  the  threatening 
attack. 

One  of  the  greatest  delights  in  life  was  to  re- 
ceive a  box  from  home.  At  Christmas-time  there 
were  plenty.  My  first  Christmas  at  the  Academy 
I  spent  sitting  on  the  sea-wall,  huddled  up  in  a 
rain-coat,  mingling  home-sick  tears  with  the  rain 
and  contemplating  the  misty  sea.  My  box  didn't 
come  in  time. 

It  was  the  custom  when  a  man  received  a  box  of 
edibles  to  open  the  box  and  display  the  contents 
on  the  study  table.  There  would  be,  perhaps,  a 
whole  turkey,  a  ham,  three  or  four  mince-pies,  boxes 
of  candy,  fruit-cake,  glasses  of  jelly,  pickles,  and 
heaven  knows  what  else!  When  the  proud  pro- 
prietor had  arranged  things  to  his  satisfaction  he 
would  go  to  the  door  opening  into  the  corridor, 
and  giving  the  number  of  his  room  would  call,  at 
the  top  of  his  voice,  "Spread,  room  68 !" 

Like  a  swarm  of  locusts,  from  every  direction, 
hungry  lads  would  rush  to  the  fray.  Egypt,  when 
the  locusts  got  through  with  it,  would  be  an  oasis 
compared  with  that  room  after  a  five-minute  at- 
tack. Presently  everything  would  be  gone  except 
perhaps  the  ham-bone.  When  the  fortunate  pos- 
sessor of  that  interesting  edible  would  endeavor 
to  slip  away,  he  would  be  detected  at  once,  and 

49 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

there  would  be  a  mad  chase  up  and  down  the  hall 
to  gain  possession  of  the  coveted  trophy. 

Fire  drills  were  frequent  at  the  Academy,  and 
the  alarm  was  always  sounded  at  unusual  hours. 
On  one  occasion  we  were  called  from  dress  parade 
to  extinguish  an  imaginary  conflagration.  The 
Academy  was  provided  with  a  large  steam  fire- 
engine,  and  several  powerful  streams  from  station- 
ary steam-pumps.  On  one  occasion  the  fire  was 
supposed  to  be  in  the  new  quarters,  a  very  long, 
narrow  building.  A  stream  from  the  fire-engine 
was  soon  playing  upon  one  end,  and  a  stream  from 
the  steam-pump  on  the  other. 

Little  by  little  the  streams  crept  toward  the  centre 
of  the  building,  and  finally  one  crowd  of  nozzlemen, 
led  by  McGiffin,  deliberately  turned  the  hose  on  the 
other  party.  The  return  was  made  promptly,  and 
all  the  disengaged  cadets  flocked  to  the  fray.  It 
was  glorious  fun.  The  officers  shouted  and  gestic- 
ulated, one  incautiously  ran  between  and  nearly  got 
drowned,  but  there  was  no  stopping  the  deluge  until 
the  streams  were  turned  off. 

Sometimes  we  went  as  a  naval  brigade  in  boats 
to  the  Government  farm.  Our  antagonists  were 
usually  a  battalion  of  the  United  States  Marines 
stationed  at  the  Academy — and  there  was  no  love 
lost  between  us,  by  the  way,  for  they  were  charged 
with  guarding  us  in  various  ways.  The  boats  would 
be  brought  as  near  the  shore  as  possible,  and  in  light 
marching  order  we  would  wade  through  the  water 
to  the  shore. 

It  was  always  prearranged  which  party  was  to 
50 


IN   AND    OUT    OF   THE    CLASS-ROOM 

win,  but  on  one  occasion  the  decision  had  not  been 
communicated  to  us.  We  charged  up  the  hill  to 
the  fort  defended  by  the  marines,  and  they  re- 
mained there.  We  had  received  no  orders  to 
retreat,  and  so  we  came  pouring  on  in  spite  of  a 
vigorous  discharge  of  blank  cartridges.  One  cadet 
was  quite  severely  injured  by  receiving  a  blast  from 
a  three-inch  howitzer  at  close  range,  he  couldn't  sit 
down  conveniently  for  a  week  or  two. 

The  marines  wouldn't  retreat,  neither  would  we. 
Bayonets  were  crossed  viciously,  and  things  looked 
ugly.  They  were  men,  but  we  were  four  times  as 
many.  A  marine  officer,  who  subsequently  distin- 
guished himself  in  Cuba  at  Guantanamo,  dashed 
in  between  the  combatants.  I  happened  to  be  in 
the  front  rank  with  two  or  three  others,  and  we 
made  a  vicious  pass  at  him  with  our  bayonets,  shout- 
ing that  he  was  our  prisoner.  His  fencing  was 
magnificent.  He  gracefully  parried  the  thrusts,  and 
whacked  us  over  the  head,  and  over  the  back  with 
his  sword,  and  easily  held  his  own  until  other  offi- 
cers intervened  and  decided  the  combat.  Though 
I  served  in  the  Spanish-American  War,  that  was 
the  nearest  I  ever  came  to  a  real  battle. 

On  one  occasion  we  had  a  sham  battle  in  the  yard 
between  two  opposing  bodies  of  cadets.  In  the 
excitement  of  the  conflict  each  party  managed  to 
drag  a  howitzer  to  the  different  ends  of  the  long 
armory,  and  in  spite  of  the  stern  commands  of  the 
officer-in-charge,  we  blazed  away  at  each  other  until 
the  windows  of  the  old  armory  were  broken  to 
pieces.  It  was  magnificent,  if  not  war. 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

And  so  with  meals  and  church,  and  drills  and 
recitations,  the  year  wore  away,  and  the  time  would 
arrive  for  the  summer  cruise.  What  we  did  then, 
and  what  fun  we  had  must  be  reserved  for  the 
following  papers. 


WHERE  ADMIRALS  ARE  MADE 
AFLOAT 

CHAPTER   V 
Deep  Water  Cruising 

The  Practical  Part  of  it.— Cruising  at  Anchor.— How  We  Cel- 
ebrated.—"Spuds."— Sleeping  in  the  Bight.— Under  Way.— 
Our  First  Introduction  to  the  Sea. — Blue  Water  and  Sea 
Legs  at  Last.  — The  Watches.  —  Hammocks.  —  Stealing 
Fresh  Water.— The  Handy  Scuttle-butt.— The  Ship's  Cook. 
— Holy  Stoning  the  Darkey. — What  We  Ate. — Pinckney 
and  Pie. — Pinckney  Plays  Captain. — On  the  Flying-jib. — 
A  Trick  at  the  Wheel.— Heaving  the  Lead. 

IN  order  to  combine  theory  and  practice,  the 
cadets  of  the  Naval  Academy  are  sent  on  a  cruise 
of  from  two  to  three  months'  duration  every  year. 
The  incidents  which  follow  illustrate  the  experi- 
ences of  one  cadet  on  several  different  cruises.  No 
attempt  has  been  made  to  preserve  chronological 
order,  and  the  only  connection  between  the  "yarns" 
lies  in  the  fact  that  they  were  nearly  all  personal 
and  that  they  really  happened. 

The  only  two  ships  that  I  ever  cruised  in  were 
the  famous  old  frigate  Constellation  and  the  little 
sloop-of-war  Dale,  which  were  the  practice  ships  of 
the  Academy  in  my  day.  I  made  several  cruises 

53 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

at  anchor,  however,  in  the  frigate  Santee,  a  ship  as 
large  as  the  other  two  ships  put  together.  Inas- 
much as  she  was  securely  moored  and  made  fast 
to  a  wharf  with  her  nose  stuck  solemnly  in  the 
mud,  she  gave  us  little  experience  of  deep-water 
sailing.  She  happened  to  be  the  guard-ship  of  the 
Academy  in  which  the  livelier  spirits  among  the 
cadets  went  into  retreat,  at  the  instance  of  their 
superior  officers,  for  periods  of  greater  or  less 
length.  I  spent  altogether  about  one  year  out  of 
the  four  between  decks  on  that  old  frigate,  and  it 
was  on  her  that  I  learned  to  rig  and  swing  a  ham- 
mock and  get  in  and  out  of  it — a  very  difficult  per- 
formance until  you  have  mastered  it — and  many 
other  details  of  a  sailor's  life. 

The  class  to  which  I  belonged,  being  composed 
of  a  lively  set  of  lads,  was  habitually  more  or  less 
in  disgrace  with  the  powers  that  be.  The  first  year, 
called  the  year  of  plebedom,  when  every  man's  hand 
is  against  you,  is  usually  terminated  with  the  be- 
ginning of  the  first  summer  cruise,  and  the  third 
class,  late  fourth,  usually  celebrated  it  in  some — to 
them — appropriate  manner.  We  had  amused  our- 
selves by  initiating  some  of  the  newly  joined,  called 
"plebes,"  into  the  mysteries  of  academic  custom  and 
ancient  practice,  and  had  been  apprehended  in  the 
midst  of  the  performance.  In  the  face  of  a  depre- 
catory oration  upon  the  subject,  delivered  the  previ- 
ous day  to  the  battalion  by  the  Secretary  of  the 
Navy,  who  was  irreverently  called  "Old  Uncle 
Dick,"  the  offence  was  deemed  doubly  aggravated, 
and  the  third  class  men  set  forth  with  the  promise 

54 


i 


$9 


S  s 


DEEP   WATER   CRUISING 

that  they  would  be  rigorously  dealt  with.  We  were, 
and  we  had  an  unusually  severe  cruise !  A  part  of 
the  time  we  had  extra  watches  to  stand,  and  some 
of  us  never  got  ashore  in  any  port  until  the  end 
of  the  cruise! 

We  were  somewhat  delayed  in  getting  under  way, 
as  the  Constellation  had  only  the  day  before  re- 
turned from  Ireland.  During  one  of  the  periodic 
visitations  of  famine  there,  she  had  been  sent  to 
the  Emerald  Isle  filled  to  the  gun-deck  with  "spuds" 
(potatoes)  for  the  use  of  the  Milesians,  and  the 
utmost  diligence  had  not  yet  sufficed  to  prepare  the 
frigate  properly  for  our  reception.  For  weeks  we 
slept  in  an  atmosphere  of  potatoes;  we  breathed 
potatoes,  thought  potatoes,  and  tasted  potatoes,  un- 
til the  homely  vegetable  became  loathsome  to  us 
before  our  return. 

One  morning  in  June  the  first  and  third  classes, 
numbering  about  one  hundred  and  seventy-five, 
were  marched  aboard  the  ship,  each  lad  carrying 
his  impedimenta  in  two  or  three  huge  bags.  We 
were  sent  to  the  berth-deck  and  lockers  assigned 
to  us,  the  first  class  men  taking  their  choice  and 
the  third  class  taking  the  balance.  The  June  plebes, 
those  who  had  entered  that  June  instead  of  the 
following  September,  the  usual  time,  upon  whom 
we  had  been  trying  our  'prentice  hand,  stowed  their 
belongings  in  the  most  inaccessible  and  gloomy  cor- 
ners of  the  deck — they  had  the  places  no  one  else 
wanted. 

Each  locker  was  about  4  feet  high,  15  inches 
wide,  and  15  inches  deep,  and  was  divided  by  two 

55 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND   TENTS 

shelves  into  three  compartments.  In  it  we  were 
expected  to  stow  two  complete  sets  of  uniforms, 
overcoats,  rain-clothes,  caps,  spare  bedding,  toilet 
articles,  and  a  sufficient  supply  of  linen  and  under- 
wear to  enable  us  to  go  two  months,  if  necessary, 
without  a  laundering,  and  everything  else.  The 
lockers  were  filled  to  overflowing,  those  of  the  green 
hands  especially.  The  A.  B.'s  (able  seamen)  of  the 
first  class  had  learned  something  by  previous  ex- 
perience. 

The  berth-deck  was  lighted  only  by  the  hatch- 
ways and  dead-lights  in  the  side,  which  were  al- 
ways closed  except  in  port,  and  frequently  then.  The 
floor  of  the  deck  was  about  five  feet  below  the  water- 
line  and  the  ceiling  about  one  foot  above  it.  It  was 
provided  with  long  tables  and  camp-stools,  and  a 
stand  with  sixteen  metal  wash-basins  of  the  plainest 
kind  was  situated  abaft  the  fore  hatch.  Hooks  were 
attached  to  the  beams  of  the  deck  above  from  which 
the  hammocks  could  be  suspended.  Here  we  lived, 
ate,  slept,  studied,  and  skylarked.  The  same  dis- 
crimination in  favor  of  the  upper  classmen  about 
the  lockers  was  exercised  in  choosing  a  spot  from 
which  to  swing  the  hammock.  Some  of  the  plebes 
were  so  restricted  as  to  room,  owing  to  the  number 
of  cadets  on  the  ship,  that  they  had  to  hang  both 
ends  of  the  hammock  from  the  same  hook  and  sleep 
in  the  bight,  which  was  not  comfortable!  The 
sailor-men  of  the  crew  lived  on  the  gun-deck,  next 
above,  the  highest  deck  of  all  being  called  the  spar- 
deck.  The  Constellation  then  was  a  flush-decked 
frigate. 

56 


DEEP   WATER   CRUISING 

We  had  no  more  than  got  aboard  the  ship  and 
hastily  stowed  away  our  dunnage  when  the  shrill 
piping  of  the  boatswain's  mates  was  heard,  fol- 
lowed by  a  hoarse  bawling,  "All  hands  up  anchor" 
and  that  was  the  beginning.  We  sailed  merrily 
down  the  Chesapeake  Bay,  with  which  our  Satur- 
day practice  cruises  had  given  us  some  little 
familiarity,  and  in  a  few  days'  time,  after  a  stop 
at  Fortress  Monroe,  we  gained  the  open  sea.  The 
ocean  about  the  capes  of  the  Chesapeake  is  very 
shallow  and  the  waves  have  plenty  of  room  to  roll. 
They  say  it  is  easy  to  tell  how  many  miles  you  are 
from  the  high- water  mark  by  the  lead-line ;  that  is, 
if  the  water  is  five  feet  deep,  you  are  five  miles  out, 
if  ten  feet  deep,  ten  miles  out,  and  so  on,  and  the 
rollers  are  simply  tremendous.  It  was  the  custom 
to  take  the  ship  out  of  the  bay  and  anchor,  and 
then  let  her  roll,  to  hearten  the  green  hands  and 
remove  any  lingering  ideas,  which  the  pleasant  voy- 
age down  the  bay  might  have  encouraged,  that  they 
were  good  sailors. 

The  ship  would  go  over  and  over  and  over  in 
one  direction  until  she  was  almost  on  her  beam  ends. 
Then  she  would  stop  and  give  a  little  shiver  which 
you  felt  in  every  atom  of  your  being.  She  would 
next  commence  to  roll  the  other  way,  and  go  over 
just  as  far  in  the  other  direction.  You  went  with 
her  naturally,  but  your  internal  arrangements  never 
kept  time  with  your  external  motions  and  the  result 
was  a  solution  of  continuity,  painful  and  humiliat- 
ing, especially  when  it  was  cruelly  commented  upon 
by  the  officers  and  oldsters  among  the  crew. 

57 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

A  sea-sick  boy  was  fair  game  for  everybody,  and 
how  we  loathed  our  kind!  We  were  not  allowed 
to  luxuriate  in  the  situation  either.  We  had  things 
to  do  all  the  time,  and  we  were  ruthlessly  com- 
pelled to  do  them.  It  was  not  an  uncommon  sight 
the  first  few  days  out  to  see  a  youngster  when  or- 
dered aloft,  take  a  can  with  him  to  be  prepared  for 
emergencies,  but  a  day  or  two  would  give  us  a  rather 
trembling  pair  of  sea-legs,  so  we  could  navigate, 
and  presently  we  would  get  under  way  and  it  would 
be  over. 

The  sailors,  who  in  numbers  about  equalled  the 
cadets,  and  the  cadets  themselves,  would  be  divided 
into  two  watches,  and  stationed  regularly  in  the 
various  parts  of  the  ship.  The  daily  routine  was 
four  hours  on  watch  and  four  hours  off,  night  and 
day  except  in  port,  the  regular  sequence  being 
broken  by  two  watches  of  two  hours  each  between 
four  in  the  afternoon  and  eight  at  night,  which  were 
called  the  dog-watches  (perhaps  because  curtailed). 
By  this  means  one  watch  would  be  on  duty  from 
midnight  to  four  in  the  morning  one  night,  and  off 
duty,  or  in  hammocks,  during  the  same  period  the 
next  night. 

The  hammocks  were  pieces  of  canvas  about  2  feet 
by  6,  carrying  a  pallet,  if  you  were  lucky  enough 
to  have  one,  and  blankets,  sheets,  pillows,  etc.  They 
were  hung  from  the  deck  beams  at  night,  and  in 
the  daytime  lashed  with  rope  into  a  huge  sausage- 
like  structure,  which  was  stowed  in  long  receptacles 
in  the  rail  on  either  side  of  the  ship.  They  were 
piped  down  at  seven  bells  (half  after  seven). 

58 


DEEP   WATER    CRUISING 

We  were  expected  to  turn  in  (go  to  bed)  at  eight, 
though  lights  were  not  formally  extinguished  until 
two  bells  (nine).  At  twelve  o'clock  at  night  the 
mid-watch  would  be  called  by  the  boatswain's  mate. 
At  four  in  the  morning,  when  it  was  relieved  by 
the  other  watch,  it  would  go  below  and  turn  in  for 
three  hours  more  sleep.  At  reveille  we  were  allowed 
about  three  minutes  to  leap  out  of  our  hammocks, 
drag  on  a  few  clothes,  lash  them  up  and  take  them 
on  deck.  To  do  this,  it  was  necessary  to  jump  at 
the  first  tap  of  the  drum.  There  was  no  time  for 
loitering  or  dreaming. 

To  wash  was  a  painful  matter.  A  little  ship  like 
the  Dale,  for  instance,  did  not  carry  enough  fresh 
water  for  the  ablutions  of  the  cadets,  and  so  we 
were  forced  to  use  salt  water,  which  those  who  have 
experienced  it  know  is  a  most  impracticable  fluid 
for  cleansing  purposes.  A  petty  officer  called  "The 
Mate-of-the-hold,"  was  charged  with  the  business 
of  seeing  that  the  cadets  did  not  steal  fresh  water 
from  the  tanks. 

We  were  given  a  moderate  allowance  of  fresh 
water  for  teeth-cleaning  purposes,  however,  and  the 
quantity  we  used  to  wheedle  out  of  the  big  negro 
who  kept  guard  over  the  water-tanks  was  simply 
amazing.  The  "first  luff,"  when  he  would  see  the 
daily  report  of  the  amount  of  water  consumed, 
would  make  pointed  remarks  on  the  laudable  desire 
of  the  cadets  to  follow  the  dental  requirements  of 
the  situation ;  saying  that  while  he  would  not  stickle 
at  a  pint  of  water  for  teeth-cleaning  purposes,  he 
thought  a  half  gallon  apiece  was  enough  for  a  Brob- 

59 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

dignag!  Many  and  stern  were  the  orders  we  got 
on  the  subject. 

We  had  another  source  of  supply  in  the  scuttle- 
butt, a  large  wooden  cask  that  stood  on  the  main- 
deck  filled  with  water  for  drinking  purposes  only. 
It  used  to  be  a  regular  thing  to  procure  a  bottle 
and  draw  water  from  it  during  the  night  for  the 
next  morning's  wash,  until  the  scuttle-butt  was 
guarded  and  we  had  to  fall  back  on  the  sea.  There 
was  no  way,  of  course,  for  taking  a  bath,  unless 
overboard,  or  up  on  the  forecastle  when  the  night 
was  dark.  As  it  was  usually  cool  at  night-time, 
washing  was  a  chilly  performance. 

Speaking  of  washing  reminds  me  of  the  ship's 
cook.  He  was  a  Guinea  negro,  who  rejoiced  in  the 
name  of  John  Ireland,  one  of  the  low-browed, 
prognathous- jawed,  broad-shouldered,  bandy-legged 
type.  We  used  to  rejoice  when  he  cooked  onions, 
because  the  odor  of  the  latter  overpowered  other 
unmentionable  emanations.  He  happened  to  pass 
to  windward  of  the  first  lieutenant  when  his  name 
was  called  at  muster  on  Sunday  morning!  Exter- 
nally he  was  cleanliness  itself.  One  whiff,  however, 
was  enough  for  the  keen  nose  of  the  executive  offi- 
cer. He  called  the  boatswain's  mate  and  told  him 
to  detail  four  men  to  take  John  Ireland  up  to  the 
head  and  scrub  him  with  sand  and  canvas. 

The  men,  relishing  the  job,  did  more  than  they 
were  ordered.  They  stripped  him,  turned  the  head 
pump  on  him  and  absolutely  holy-stoned  him !  The 
crew  enjoyed  the  performance  hugely.  He  was  the 
cleanest  darky  from  that  time  that  we  ever  saw. 

60 


DEEP   WATER   CRUISING 

The  holy-stone  took  off  the  epidermis  and  every- 
thing else.  The  remembrance  of  that  one  dose  was 
sufficient  to  keep  him  clean  for  ever  after. 

The  Government  allowed  the  cadets  a  salary,  and 
we  were  given  the  privilege  of  doing  our  own  cater- 
ing when  on  a  cruise,  a  certain  amount  of  the  salary 
being  at  our  disposal.  I  remember  the  first  time 
I  acted  as  caterer  in  company  with  a  classmate. 
We  lived  well,  had  unlimited  milk,  cream,  fruit, 
etc.,  and  were  voted  a  great  success!  But  when 
the  bills  came  in,  and  it  was  found  that  we  had 
used  up  the  whole  three  months'  allowance  in  one 
month,  public  opinion  changed,  and  as  we  had  to 
live  on  the  ship's  fare  of  "salt  horse,"  salt  pork, 
"lob-scouse,"  a  compound  of  hot  water  and  hard- 
tack, "duff,"  a  horribly  indigestible  pudding,  and 
another  dreadful  decoction  called  "Pinckney's 
Love,"  from  our  chief  steward,  we  did  not  hear 
the  last  of  our  extravagance  until  the  end  of  the 
cruise. 

Where  the  steward  got  the  time-honored  name 
of  Pinckney  I  know  not.  He  was  a  shrewd  old 
darky,  and  laid  in  a  stock  of  pies  and  cakes  at  each 
port,  which  he  sold  at  exorbitant  prices  to  the  cadets 
when  at  sea.  The  first  time  he  tried  it,  one  envied 
youth,  who  was  the  happy  possessor  of  a  twenty- 
dollar  gold  piece,  tendered  it  to  Pinckney  in  pay- 
ment for  a  twenty-five-cent  pie.  The  old  man  could 
not  change  the  coin  and  accordingly  "marked  it 
down."  That  gold  piece  went  from  hand  to  hand 
every  time  a  boy  wanted  a  pie,  and  Pinckney,  much 
against  his  will,  had  to  mark  it  down.  We  ran 

61 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

up  some  immense  bills,  one  boy  whom  I  knew  well, 
being  especially  extravagant. 

Finally,  in  utter  despair,  Pinckney  went  to  the 
paymaster  and  borrowed  some  change.  Like  Bre'r 
Rabbit  he  laid  low  about  it !  The  boy  against  whom 
the  big  bill  stood  came  smilingly  up  and  tendered 
the  double  eagle  as  usual.  Pinckney,  chuckling  with 
glee,  changed  the  coin!  There  was  consternation 
on  the  berth-deck,  therefore,  and  as  no  more  credit 
was  extended,  the  pie  business  languished. 

Speaking  of  Pinckney  reminds  me  of  a  failing 
he  had.  On  occasions  he  would  get  gloriously 
drunk.  When  a  boat  comes  off  to  a  ship  at  night, 
it  is  hailed,  and  the  answer  depends  upon  the  rank 
of  the  highest  officer  in  the  boat.  For  instance, 
anything  below  the  rank  of  ward-room  officer 
would  answer  "no,  no";  the  ward-room  officer, 
"ay,  ay,"  the  captain  would  give  the  name  of  the 
ship,  and  the  admiral  would  reply  "flag." 

The  captain  was  ashore  one  night  when  the  dash 
of  a  boat  through  the  waves  could  be  heard  ap- 
proaching the  ship  in  the  darkness.  The  customary 
hail  was  given,  and  a  grave  voice  answered  "Con- 
stellation." The  officer  of  the  deck,  midshipmen  of 
the  watch,  and  the  other  officers  rushed  to  the  gang- 
way to  receive  the  captain,  who  was  a  great  stickler 
for  all  the  observances  due  his  rank.  As  the  officers 
took  off  their  caps  in  the  direction  of  the  voice, 
the  black  woolly  head  of  Pinckney  appeared  in  the 
gangway! 

"Boatswain's  mate !"  cried  the  lieutenant,  fiercely, 
"kindly  kick  this  man  down  the  fore  hatch!" 

62 


DEEP   WATER   CRUISING 

Pinckney  never  knew  how  he  got  below  until 
we  told  him  in  great  glee  the  next  morning.  It 
took  a  lot  of  pies  to  square  that  situation,  and  to 
call  him  "Captain"  made  him  miserable  there- 
after ! 

My  first  station  was  on  the  flying- jib.  I  was 
intensely  proud  of  the  position.  It  ranked  with  one 
of  the  light-yardmen,  and  gave  me  an  opportunity 
on  the  extreme  end  of  the  fly  ing- jib-boom  to  see 
the  whole  ship  in  every  evolution.  It  was  the  habit 
of  the  men  in  the  different  stations  to  report  when 
they  were  ready  to  perform  any  evolution  in  order 
that  everything  might  be  done  together.  The  first 
time  I  got  out  on  the  fly  ing- jib-boom  to  loose  sail, 
I  called  out  when  the  gaskets  had  been  cast  off  the 
centipede,  that  all  was  ready  with  the  fly  ing- jib. 
No  attention  was  paid  to  me,  and  as  I  was  filled 
with  the  importance  of  my  station,  I  repeated  the 
statement,  raising  my  voice.  Still  no  attention.  I 
cried  a  third  time,  and  louder,  with  my  blood  up, 
and  determined  to  be  heard  on  the  quarter-deck 
if  necessary,  "All  ready  with  the  flying- jib,  sir!" 

The  lieutenant  on  the  forecastle,  turned  around 
and  faced  me,  a  picture  of  wrath.  "Come  in  from 
there,  you  fog-horn!"  he  cried,  as  he  shook  his  fist 
at  me.  "I  don't  care  a  damn  if  the  fly  ing- jib  is 
never  ready !"  I  crept  in  in  humiliation  and  shame, 
and  when  I  was  promoted  to  the  fore-royal-yard,  I 
contented  'myself,  when  ready,  by  announcing  it 
with  a  wave  of  the  hand. 

Everybody  was  expected  to  take  a  trick  at  the 
wheel  It  was  monotonous  work  when  you  were 

63 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND   TENTS 

simply  an  auxiliary  to  the  man  who  was  steering 
the  ship,  but  when  that  duty  and  responsibility  de- 
volved upon  you,  the  situation  was  different.  I 
have  commanded  a  regiment  of  men,  I  have  laid 
my  hand  on  the  throttle  of  a  locomotive  going  at 
full  speed,  and  I  have  held  the  reins  over  the  back 
of  a  runaway  horse,  until  I  pulled  him  down,  but 
the  greatest  sense  of  absolute  physical  power  that 
ever  came  to  me  from  these  things,  is  as  nothing 
to  the  feeling  that  possesses  the  man  who  holds  the 
wheel  of  a  great  ship  in  a  gale  of  wind. 

There  you  stand,  your  legs  spread  far  apart,  your 
hands  grasping  the  spokes,  your  eyes  fixed  on  the 
swinging  compass  card,  or  taking  in  the  shivering 
leeches  of  the  topsails  if  you  are  sailing  by  the 
wind,  every  atom  of  strength  in  service,  every  nerve 
doing  its  work,  sweat  pouring  off  your  forehead, 
the  ship  jumping  and  quivering  and  straining,  and 
you  holding  her  under  control,  swaying  a  thousand 
tons  of  wood  and  iron  at  your  will — it's  mag- 
nificent ! 

Another  pleasant  task  that  used  to  fall  to  us  when 
we  reached  the  able  seaman  stage,  was  heaving  the 
lead.  It  was  great  fun  to  stand  out  in  the  main 
chains  with  a  heavy  piece  of  lead  on  the  end  of  a 
long  rope  marked  at  different  places  to  indicate  the 
length  of  the  lead-line.  You  would  swing  the  lead 
to  and  fro  at  the  end  of  perhaps  ten  feet  of  line, 
and  presently  whirl  it  around  in  great  circles  paral- 
lel to  the  ship,  and  cast  it  far  forward.  As  it  sank 
to  the  bottom  the  ship  would  rapidly  draw  up  to 
it,  so  that  when  the  line  fell  perpendicularly  from 


DEEP   WATER   CRUISING 

your  hand,  and  the  lead  was  on  the  bottom,  you 
could  call  out  the  exact  depth  of  the  water. 

In  coming  into  port,  or  in  threading  a  narrow 
channel  in  shoal  water,  the  crew  would  be  at  their 
stations,  the  captain  and  first  lieutenant,  or  exec- 
utive officer,  on  the  bridge,  and  everything  would 
be  perfectly  silent.  The  first  lieutenant  would  speak 
a  word  or  two  now  and  then  to  the  helmsman,  but 
the  only  sound  that  broke  the  splash  of  the  waves 
as  the  ship  plunged  through  the  water,  would  be 
the  voice  of  the  leadsman  in  the  chains.  We  used 
to  deliver  the  call  in  a  long-drawn  sing-song,  which 
was  pleasant  to  hear,  and  lingers  in  my  memory 
even  now. 


CHAPTER  VI 
Life  on  a  Practice  Ship 

Reefing  Topsails. — On  the  Swaying  Yard-Arm. — In  Great 
Luck! — "It's  the  Captain." — Never  Idle. — Surprise  Quar- 
ters.—"Rally's  Exploit."— The  Flying  Dutchman.— Taken 
for  a  Pirate. — A  New  Commandant. — General  Muster. — 
A  Spotless  Ship. — Night  Prayers. — The  Lonely  Boat. — 
Target  Practice.— The  Astonished  Cat.— The  Yacht  Club. 
— A  Fierce  Gale. — Aloft  in  the  Storm. — A  Ghastly  Acci- 
dent.— Bold  Surgery. 

ONE  of  the  things  we  did  not  like  was  to  be 
called  out  at  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  per- 
haps, in  the  midst  of  a  driving  rain  to  reef  topsails. 
It  was  not  pleasant  to  be  suddenly  awakened  out  of 
a  sound  and  needed  sleep  by  a  hoarse  voice  bawl- 
ing, "All  hands  reef  topsails!  Lively,  now,  my 
hearties,  show  a  leg  there,  tumble  up,  lads!" 

That  meant  a  wild  leap  from  the  hammock,  a 
jump  into  a  pair  of  trousers  and  a  blouse,  and  per- 
haps a  pair  of  shoes  if  there  were  time,  a  rush  up 
on  deck  in  the  darkness,  and  then  one  would  find 
himself  in  one  moment  scrambling  up  the  weather 
shrouds  and  over  the  futtocks,  and  in  another  laying 
out  on  the  broad  topsail  yard-arms,  the  feet  rest- 
ing on  the  foot  rope  and  the  breast  lying  against 
the  yard.  The  wind  would  be  roaring  a  half  gale, 
the  rain  driving  upon  you,  chilling  you  to  the 

66 


LIFE   ON   A   PRACTICE    SHIP 

bone,  and  the  heavy  canvas  of  the  topsail  standing 
out  stiff  as  a  board  beneath  your  numbed  fingers  as 
you  strove  to  tie  up  the  reef  points  or  pass  the 
weather  ear-ring,  the  ship  the  whole  time  plunging 
and  pitching  in  the  most  insane  manner.  Some- 
times, inside  of  two  minutes,  you  would  have  passed 
from  your  warm,  dry  hammock  to  this  precarious 
position. 

We  had  a  saying  that  up  aloft  it  was  one  hand 
for  yourself  and  the  other  hand  for  the  Govern- 
ment ;  but  I  have  been  on  the  topsail  yard  when  it 
seemed  as  if  the  only  safe  thing  would  be  hands, 
feet,  teeth  and  toe-nails  for  yourself  and  let  the 
Government  go  hang!  If  the  wind  came  heavily 
it  would  sometimes  take  us  a  long  time  to  get  the 
topsails  close  reefed  and  snugged  down.  Then, 
when  we  reached  the  deck  again,  we  would  have  to 
sway  away  on  the  topsail  halliards  until  the  sail 
set  flat,  and  perhaps  half  of  our  watch  in  would 
be  gone  before  we  could  go  below  and  turn  in  our 
hammocks  for  another  hour's  rest. 

Speaking  of  holding  on  aloft,  reminds  me  of  a 
boy  who  did  not  hold  on.  The  officer  of  the  deck 
on  the  Constellation  (i.e.,  the  man  who  had  charge 
of  the  deck  during  a  watch),  stood  on  a  bridge 
which  was  raised  some  eight  feet  above  the  deck 
and  extended  from  one  side  of  the  ship  to  the  other, 
whence  he  had  a  fair  view  of  the  whole  ship  On 
hot,  sunny  days,  the  bridge  was  covered  with  a 
light  canvas  awning.  About  thirty  feet  above  it 
was  the  crossjack  yard  (pronounced  crojick). 

A  certain  cadet  who  had  distinguished  himself 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

aloft,  one  day  lost  foothold  and  handhold  and  fell 
from  the  yard.  Fortunately,  he  struck  the  awning 
all  sitting,  the  canvas  tilted  under  the  impact,  and 
slid  him  gently  on  the  deck  all  standing.  The  of- 
ficer who  had  made  the  remarks  derogatory  to  the 
flying  jib,  and  who  was  a  very  slow,  serious,  phleg- 
matic man,  happened  to  be  in  charge.  He  leaned 
over  the  rail  of  the  bridge  and  looked  gravely  down 
at  the  dazed  cadet,  who  mechanically  saluted  him 
and  remarked  that  he  had  come  on  deck. 

"So  I  see,"  replied  the  officer  with  rising  choler, 
"but  I  would  have  you  to  know,  sir,  that  the  quar- 
ter-deck is  not  to  be  invaded  in  this  unceremonious 
manner.  Did  you  fall  or  did  you  jump?" 

"I — I  fell,  sir,"  gasped  the  cadet,  weakly. 

"It  is  a  good  thing  for  you  that  you  did,  sir! 
Go  forward!"  said  the  imperturbable  officer. 

Some  of  the  officers  were  great  sticklers  for  rank. 
It  is  said  of  one  of  the  commanders  that  he  fell 
overboard  while  pensively  gazing  at  the  moon  one 
night,  when  the  ship  was  at  anchor,  and  when  the 
astonished  marine  guard  at  the  gangway  cried, 
"Man  overboard!"  the  irate  captain,  floundering  in 
the  water,  spluttered  out,  "You  lie,  ye  lubber,  it's 
the  captain!" 

As  a  finder  of  work  for  idle  hands  to  do,  Satan 
was  at  a  discount.  The  officers  were  abundantly 
able  to  perform  his  duties  as  far  as  that  was  con- 
cerned. We  were  drilled  from  morning  until  night. 
Target  practice,  small  arm  drill,  seamanship  drill, 
reefing  topsails,  making  and  taking  in  sail,  crossing 
light  yards,  boat  drill,  abandoning  ship,  fire  drill, 

68 


LIFE   ON   A    PRACTICE   SHIP 

and  every  other  that  could  be  invented  were  made 
use  of.  Our  leisure  time  was  nil. 

I  believe  the  drill  we  hated  the  most,  however, 
was  what  was  called  "surprise  quarters."  The 
captain  had  a  fiendish  habit  of  awakening  about 
2  A.M.  and  quietly  summoning  the  drummer  to  beat 
to  quarters.  That  meant  a  wild  leap  from  the  ham- 
mocks and  a  wild  dash  for  your  station.  Clothes 
were  a  matter  of  secondary  consideration.  The 
great-gun  crews  were  required  to  cast  loose  their 
guns,  load,  run  them  out  and  fire  them.  The  crew 
of  the  first  gun  fired  usually  received  some  reward 
in  the  way  of  extra  privileges  the  following  day, 
which  were  immensely  prized.  We  made  incredible 
time. 

After  a  lapse  of  years  I  dare  not  say  how  many 
seconds  after  the  first  tap  of  the  drum  the  first  gun 
would  be  fired,  but  I  do  know  that  the  quickest  time 
that  was  ever  made  was  made  by  No.  3  gun,  com- 
manded by  a  lad  of  my  class  whose  nickname  was 
"Bally."  Before  the  drum  had  ceased  beating,  his 
gun  in  the  starboard  battery  roared  out  in  salute. 
The  captain  was  so  delighted  that  he  sent  for  Bally 
that  night  and  complimented  him  before  the  whole 
crew,  remarking  that  he  believed  the  time  had 
never  been  beaten  on  any  ship;  the  cadets  of  the 
crew  were  promised  unheard-of  indulgences  as  a 
reward.  The  quick  time  was  entered  on  the  log- 
book. 

Bally  bore  himself  like  the  modest  hero  that  he 
was,  and  we  all  envied  him  until  the  next  morn- 
ing discovered  the  fact  that  he  had  not  stopped  to 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

run  the  piece  out  and  that  he  had  absolutely  fired 
away  the  ramrod  of  the  gun !  Bally's  laurels  with- 
ered and  he  contemplated  the  mutability  of  human 
greatness  from  the  vantage-point  of  the  royal  yard, 
whither  he  resorted  at  the  suggestion  of  the  incensed 
captain  to  meditate  upon  his  sin  fulness.  The  royal 
yard  was  a  great  place  for  punishment,  but  a  so- 
journ upon  it  became  monotonous  after  one  or  two 
experiences. 

Speaking  of  surprise  quarters,  reminds  me  that 
once  we  had  them  somewhere  off  the  New  England 
coast.  I  was  stationed  in  the  foretop  at  the  time, 
and  had  a  beautiful  view  of  it  all.  And  a  pretty 
scene  it  was,  the  guns  sending  out  long  lances  of 
light  followed  by  clouds  of  smoke  in  the  darkness 
beneath  us.  The  captain  of  the  top  was  an  old 
Dutchman,  who  had  been  all  over  the  world.  I 
can  remember  the  yarns  he  used  to  tell,  and  on  this 
night  particularly  he  dilated  on  his  experience  with 
the  famous  Flying  Dutchman.  It  was  weird,  in- 
deed, to  hear  him  tell  how  he  had  on  one  occasion 
sighted  the  dread  ship  of  the  grim  Van  der  Decken 
and  of  the  appalling  consequences  which  ensued. 
The  last  bit  of  realism  was  added  when  he  suddenly 
seized  my  arm  and  pointed  out  to  windward,  re- 
marking, in  awe-struck  tones,  "Mein  Gott  in  Him- 
mel,  vot  ish  dot!"  Really  my  blood  ran  cold  for 
a  minute,  until  I  discovered  that  "dot"  was  a  large 
ship  which  had  heard  the  promiscuous  shooting 
and  had  come  down  to  investigate  the  unusual 
occurrence,  fearing  a  ship  in  distress  might  be  sig- 
nalling for  help.  The  ship  was  followed  by  several 

70 


LIFE   ON   A    PRACTICE    SHIP 

schooners  which  had  been  actuated  by  the  same 
motive,  and  they  were  very  much  disgusted  when 
they  found  that  it  was  only  the  captain  amusing 
himself  with  the  surprise  quarters. 

Two  A.M.  was  the  usual  hour  for  getting  under 
way,  too.  There  was  a  delightful  sense  of  uncer- 
tainty about  summer  cruises.  One  never  knew  what 
new  idea  would  generate  in  the  captain's  mind.  We 
were  always  doing  surprising  things.  I  remember 
one  day  we  sighted  a  sail  on  the  horizon  and  im- 
mediately cracked  on  in  pursuit  of  it.  The  vessel 
we  were  chasing  took  no  notice  of  us  until  we  had 
drawn  quite  near,  when  she  changed  her  course 
slightly.  We  followed  suit.  She  changed  her 
course  again  and  we  did  the  same.  We  had  no 
flag  hoisted,  and  our  peculiar  actions  and  war-like 
appearance  had  evidently  awakened  suspicion.  She 
had  been  jogging  on  in  a  leisurely  manner,  but 
now  she  put  on  all  sail  to  escape,  and  made  every 
effort  to  shake  us  off,  but  it  was  no  use,  we  had 
the  heels  of  her  and  presently  we  ranged  alongside 
the  old  bark.  A  row  of  round  Dutch  faces  were 
staring  at  us  over  the  bulwarks. 

"Scheep  ahoy !"  came  up  the  wind  in  a  frightened 
voice  toward  us.  "Vot  sheep  ish  dot?  Vat  you 
vant?" 

We  replied  that  we  were  the  -United  States  ship 
Constellation  and  did  not  want  anything. 

"Got  sei  dank!"  fervently  ejaculated  the  little 
Dutch  skipper,  evidently  much  relieved.  "I  dook 
you  for  a  birate!" 

With  mutual  laughter  we  parted. 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

Sunday  we  had  no  lessons  or  drills  and  we  en- 
joyed some  little  leisure  time  of  our  own,  unless 
the  weather  necessitated  working  the  ship,  as  was 
sometimes  the  case.  Sundays  on  merchant  ships 
are  the  same  as  other  days,  perhaps  a  little  worse. 
The  sailors  have  a  rude  doggerel  that  runs  some- 
thing in  this  way:  "Six  days  shalt  thou  work  and 
do  all  that  thou  art  able;  on  the  seventh  day  thou 
shalt  work  more  and  also  scrape  the  cable." 

On  the  first  Sunday  in  the  month  we  had  general 
muster,  weather  permitting.  The  crew  would  be 
ranged  forward  in  the  gangway  on  the  spar-deck, 
the  cadets  on  the  quarter-deck,  the  officers  aft,  the 
marines  drawn  up  in  line ;  everybody  paying  atten- 
tion while  the  "Articles  for  the  better  government 
of  the  Navy  of  the  United  States,"  with  their  hid- 
eous list  of  death  penalties  would  be  read.  Then 
every  member  of  the  crew,  dressed  in  his  best  suit 
of  clothes,  would  be  required  to  pass  in  review 
before  the  captain  and  executive  officer.  Woe  be 
unto  those  who  could  not  pass  muster !  After  that 
ceremony  we  would  "rig  Church,"  as  the  phrase  is, 
on  the  main-deck  and  so  fill  away  the  morning.  In 
the  afternoon  we  were  generally  left  to  ourselves. 
On  ordinary  Sunday  mornings  we  were  inspected 
at  general  quarters. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  state  that  the  ship  was  always 
kept  spotlessly  clean  all  the  time.  The  captain  and 
executive  officer  had  an  unpleasant  habit  of  rubbing 
a  white  gloved  hand  over  any  object  which  struck 
their  fancy,  and  woe  to  the  cadet  in  charge  if  the 
glove  bore  the  slightest  mark  of  dirt  upon  it !  When 

72 


LIFE   ON   A    PRACTICE    SHIP 

there  was  nothing  else  to  do,  sweepers  were  piped. 
The  quantity  of  dust  which  accumulates  on  a  ship, 
which  is  swept  about  every  hour,  is  simply  astonish- 
ing. Where  it  comes  from  is  a  mystery. 

When  the  weather  was  fair,  when  the  hammocks 
were  piped  down,  we  frequently  had  a  brief  moment 
of  prayer  by  the  chaplain — irreverently  known  as 
"Pray."  The  cadets  would  be  ranged  on  the  quar- 
ter-deck near  the  rails,  the  men  forward,  and  the 
officers  aft,  the  chaplain  standing  by  the  binnacle 
or  compass-light,  all  with  bared  heads  listening 
solemnly  to  the  reverent  petitions.  I  think  it  must 
have  been  a  pretty  sight. 

There  were  plenty  of  little  things  happening  out- 
side the  range  of  duty  to  break  what  some  people 
call  the  monotony  of  the  sea.  One  afternoon  the 
lookout  sighted  something  on  the  water  and  as  we 
ran  down  toward  it  it  proved  to  be  a  boat.  Things 
seen  adrift  on  the  sea  are  always  indicative  of 
tragedy,  and  I  can  remember  our  eagerness  as  we 
swept  down  toward  it  and  hove  to,  and  sent  a 
boat  off  to  investigate.  It  was  a  ship's  quarter- 
boat.  There  was  no  name  or  mark  on  it,  nothing 
to  give  the  slightest  hint  of  its  story  unless  some 
empty  bread  bags  and  a  breaker  from  which  had 
been  drawn  the  last  drop  of  water.  It  was  a  lone- 
some little  object  floating  there,  and  beneath  its 
silence  perhaps  lay  an  ocean  mystery.  After  sailing 
a  suitable  distance  away,  we  used  it  for  a  target 
and  soon  demolished  it. 

We  were  trained  to  fire  in  rotation  and  it  used 
73 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

to  be  a  pleasant  practice.  The  orders  ran  some- 
thing like  this: 

"Fire  number  one  gun!" 

The  gun  captain  would  take  careful  aim,  pull 
the  lock-string,  and  away  the  shell  would  go  whizz- 
ing through  the  air  toward  the  target.  The  range- 
finder  in  the  top  would  report  it. 

"To  the  right,  and  over." 

"Fire  number  two  gun." 

"To  the  left  and  short." 

"Fire  number  three  gun." 

"Hit  the  target!" 

"Very  well  done,  number  three!" 

That  was  joy. 

While  on  the  subject,  of  target  practice,  of  course 
we  always  fired  twenty-one  guns  on  national  holi- 
days. One  Fourth  of  July,  a  very  hot,  nasty  day, 
we  made  preparations  for  firing  the  national  salute. 
The  guns  of  the  Dale  were  all  on  the  gun-deck 
and  nothing  was  mounted  on  the  spar-deck.  The 
ship's  cat  was  peacefully  reposing  on  the  spar-deck 
right  over  number  one  gua  She  was  a  new  cat 
and  had  had  no  experience  with  artillery. 

As  eight  bells,  twelve  o'clock,  struck  forward, 
number  one  gun  boomed  out  beneath  her  feet. 
She  rose  as  if  a  shell  had  struck  her,  and  with 
one  wild  leap  through  the  air  landed  across  the 
deck  right  over  number  two  gun  on  the  other 
side.  The  guns  were  fired  from  different  sides 
in  alternation,  so  she  had  no  more  than  struck  the 
deck  when  number  two  boomed  out  beneath  her 
feet,  also.  She  started  back  on  the  other  side 

74 


LIFE   ON    A    PRACTICE    SHIP 

only  to  be  met  by  number  three,  and  when  she 
was  last  seen  in  the  smoke  of  battle,  she  was 
whirling  madly  around  in  the  centre  of  the  deck 
while  the  guns  boomed  out  all  about  her. 

The  sight  was  enough  to  tax  the  equanimity 
of  the  stoutest  tar.  She  simply  had  "fits"  while 
the  battery  let  loose.  She  afterward  had  kittens 
in  one  of  the  men's  hammocks  during  his  watch 
on  deck,  and  he  innocently  lashed  the  brood  up 
in  his  hammock  and  never  discovered  the  fact 
until  evening,  when  the  hammocks  were  piped  down 
and  he  found  that  his  sleeping  apartment  was 
lined  with  diminutive  dead  cats! 

Speaking  of  shooting,  one  day  at  New  London 
we  were  anchored  in  the  river,  when  the  New 
York  Yacht  Club  came  in  on  its  annual  cruise. 
The  yachts  dropped  anchor  one  evening  all  about 
us,  and  the  next  morning  we  could  hear  their 
little  guns  piping  in  salute  as  they  hoisted  their 
flags.  We  were  not  in  the  habit  of  saluting  at 
morning  colors,  but  to  do  honor  to  the  occasion, 
the  captain  ordered  the  biggest  gun  on  board  to 
be  discharged.  I  hope  he  did  not  have  to  pay  for 
the  glass  and  crockery  the  concussion  demolished 
on  the  yachts. 

Several  times  while  on  different  cruises,  we  were 
passed  by  the  Yacht  Club,  and  it  was  a  glorious 
sight.  The  beautiful  pleasure  craft  covered  with 
clouds  of  canvas  and  filled  with  gayly  dressed 
yachtsmen  and  women  would  dash  by  our  old 
wagon  as  if  we  were  anchored.  Sometimes  the 

75 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

different  yachts  would  be  sailed  by  women,  which 
would  make  the  sight  more  attractive. 

The  day  we  fired  the  Fourth  of  July  salute  with 
such  disastrous  effects  upon  the  ship's  cat,  was  a 
hot,  mucky,  nasty,  misty  day,  and  before  the  first 
dog  watch  we  had  run  into  one  of  the  fiercest 
North  Atlantic  gales  I  ever  experienced,  and  very 
unusual  indeed  for  the'  season  of  the  year.  The 
old  hands  had  various  experiences  to  relate,  but 
all  agreed  it  was  sufficiently  severe. 

We  had  snugged  down  everything  early  in  the 
afternoon  and  were  lying  to  under  reefed  topsails 
and  staysail.  Late  in  the  afternoon,  it  was  deemed 
best  to  reduce  sail  further,  and  the  hands  we're 
sent  aloft  for  the  purpose.  The  mizzen  topsail 
was  to  be  furled*  entirely.  I  was  the  midshipman 
in  charge  of  the  mizzentop.  I  remember  that  I 
stood  on  the  cap  directing  the  men  and  from  there 
I  had  a  fair  view  of  the  maintop  just  in  front 
of  me.  The  maintopmen  were  smarter  than  the 
mizzentopmen  that  afternoon,  and  they  had  all  laid 
down  from  aloft  except  the  top-keeper,  a  young 
cadet  whose  business  it  was  to  stay  there  until  the 
yard  had  been  hoisted  again,  while  my  men  were 
still  on  the  yard  passing  the  gaskets. 

The  men  on  deck  were  jogging  away  on  the 
maintopsail  halliards,  straining  and  tugging  to 
raise  the  yard  and  flatten  sail.  The  wind  was 
roaring  through  the  top-hamper  at  a  perfectly 
terrific  rate.  I  had  on-  a  thin  rain-coat  which 
was  simply  whipped  to  pieces  before  I  got  down, 
and  it  was  absolutely  impossible  to  hear  an  order 


LIFE   ON   A   PRACTICE    SHIP 

from  the  deck  or  deliver  a  verbal  report  to  it. 
Everything  was  done  by  gesture.  Being  on*  a  level 
with  the  maintop,  however,  I  was  startl-ed  to  hear 
coming  across  the  wind,  a  thin  cry;  at  the  same 
moment  one  of  the  men  at  my  feet  called  my 
attention  to  the  cadet  in  the  maintop. 

The  topsail  halliards  were  rove  through  a  large 
four-fold  block,  and  the  boy  had  thoughtlessly 
placed  his  hand  on  the  rope  running  through  the 
sheaves,  under  the  impression  that  he  had  hold 
of  the  standing  part  of  the  fall.  Unfortunately, 
however,  he  made  a  mistake,  and  before  he  knew 
it  his  hand  had  been  caught  between  the  iron 
sheave  of  the  block  and  the  rope  with  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  men  pulling  away  on  it  with  all 
their  might. 

He  gave  that  one  wild  cry  and  then  collapsed. 
Nobody  heard  him  on  deck,  of  course,  and  no  one 
there  could  see  him,  either.  We  screamed  like 
mad  from  the  mizzen  topsail  yard  and  nobody 
heard  us,  either.  The  officer  whose  business  it 
was  to  watch  from  the  deck  for  signals  from  the 
mizzentop  had  turned  away  his  head  for  a  moment 
and  it  seemed  to  me  hours  before  he  looked  up, 
and  in  compliance  with  our  frantic  gesticulations 
settled  away  the  topsail  halliards  a  little. 

The  top-keeper  fainted  instantly  his  hand  was 
released  and  he  lay  a  limp  body  rolling  around  in 
the  swaying  top.  Three  or  four,  cadets  sprang 
into  the  main  rigging  in  obedience  to  our  motions, 
recognizing  at  once  that  something  was  the  matter. 
When  they  gained  the  top  they  fastened  the  luck- 

77 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

less  lad  to  a  top-burton  and  lowered  him  swiftly 
to  the  deck. 

It  was  necessary  to  operate  at  once.  The  boy 
was  laid  on  the  ward-room  table  and  held  by  a 
half-dozen  cadets,  who  lay  with  their  breasts  upon 
the  table  and  their  feet  braced  against  the  state- 
room bulkheads,  while  the  anaesthetics  were  ad- 
ministered. The  ship  was  rolling  and  pitching 
tremendously.  Some  of  us  had  to  hold  on  to  the 
surgeon  also,  to  keep  him  steady.  The  operation, 
under  such  difficulties,  was  the  most  brilliant  and 
skilful  piece  of  surgery  that  has  ever  come  under 
my  observation.*  The  boy  lost  three  ringers,  and 
it  was  fortunate  that  he  did  not  lose  the  whole 
hand. 

*Last  summer  at  Cape  May  I  met  the  surgeon  who  per- 
formed the  operation  twenty  years  before.  He  is  in  civil 
practice  now,  but  recalled  the  incident  perfectly,  and  with 
evident  pride. 


CHAPTER   VII 

Experiences  Bitter  and  Otherwise 

Savage  Dentistry. — A  Lucky  Move. — A  Narrow  Escape. — 
Hardships  on  a  Leaky  Ship. — Squalls. — Breakers  Ahead. — 
Man  Overboard. — Fire. — A  Collision. — The  Aftermath. — 
Tacking  Ship  the  First  Time.  —  Disgraced.  —  Sweeping 
Over  the  Spuds. — Another  Failure. — Success  at  Last. — 
Marvellous  Navigation. — All  Hands  Overboard. — "Jack 
Sharkee." 

ACCIDENTS  were  always  liable  to  happen  on 
shipboard,  especially  in  consideration  of  the 
great  pressure  and  strain  to  which  everything  was 
subjected  in  heavy  weather.  I  remember  on  one 
occasion,  a  lot  of  us  were  hauling  away  on  the 
fall  of  a  light  .tackle  which  had  been  clapped  on 
to  a  heavy  hawser.  The  iron  hook  of  the  block 
broke,  and  one  of  the  pieces  flew  across  the  deck 
and  struck  a  man  in  the  jaw,  cutting  a  piece  out 
of  his  lip,  knocking  out  three  or  four  of  his  teeth, 
and  nearly  killing  him  with  the  blow. 

At  another  time  I  was  standing  astride  of  a 
hawser,  which  was  under  a  tremendous  strain,  and 
had  only  just  stepped  from  across  it  by  direction 
of  the  officer  of  the  forecastle,  when  the  rope 
parted  with  a  loud  crack,  and  the  two  ends  flew 
by  me  with  terrific  force.  One  of  them  would 
have  torn  me  to  pieces  if  I  had  not  changed  my 
position. 

79 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

I  remember  a  story  of  a  cadet  who,  on  one 
occasion,  was  standing  immediately  under  the  main- 
yard,  a  very  heavy  spar,  which  had  just  been 
swayed  aloft  to  its  place,  but  which  had  not  yet 
been  fully  secured.  The  heavy  fall  of  the  tackle 
which  had  been  used  to  sway  it  aloft  was  coiled 
down  on  the  deck.  Suddenly  the  temporary  fas- 
tenings holding  the  yard  commenced  to  give  way. 
With  one  glance  aloft  the  middy  saw  his  danger, 
and  making  a  desperate  backward  leap,  landed  in 
the  centre  of  the  coil  of  rope.  He  had  sense 
enough  to  stand  perfectly  still,  while  the  rope,  as 
the  yard  fell,  whirled  around  him  like  a  lightning 
flash.  If  it  had  caught  his  arm  or  his  clothes, 
or  any  other  part  of  his  body,  probably  he  would 
have  been  instantly  jerked  to  death.  As  the  yard 
came  crashing  down  to  the  deck,  he  fell  over  in 
a  dead  faint. 

At  one  time,  when  stationed  on  the  flying- jib- 
boom  making  some  repairs  or  alterations  to  the 
sail,  I  had  an  open  sheath-knife  in  my  hand,  the 
blade  of  which  was  very  sharp.  An  unexpected 
pitch  of  the  ship  caused  me  to  lose  my  hold.  I 
instinctively  caught  at  the  fly  ing- jib-stay  with  the 
hand  which  held  the  knife,  and  nearly  cut  it  open 
by  the  pressure  of  my  grip  on  the  stay  and  the 
blade.  The  sharp  pain  caused  me  to  relax  my 
grasp,  and  I  immediately  fell,  just  saving  myself 
from  going  overboard  by  catching  the  foot  rope 
with  my  knees.  It  was  all-providential,  for  I  could 
not  possibly  have  done  it  again,  nor  do  I  now 
understand  it.  At  any  rate  I  did  not  fall.  If  I 

80 


EXPERIENCES  BITTER  AND  OTHERWISE 

had  gone  down  immediately  in  front  of  the  bow 
of  the  rapidly  moving  ship  I  should'  have  been 
struck,  and  that  would  have  probably  been  the 
last  of  me.  I  finished  the  job  in  short  order,  but 
when  I  came  on  the  forecastle  I  was  completely 
unnerved.  It  seems  to  me  that  my  life  has  been 
providentially  preserved  many  times.  I  suppose 
everyone's  has,  but  I  seem  to  have  noticed  and 
remembered  it. 

We  experienced  several  severe  storms  on  the 
different  cruises.  In  one  we  were  obliged  to  lay 
to  for  a  long  period.  The  bobstays  were  carried 
away,  the  dolphin-striker  followed  suit,  the  cut- 
water was  badly  damaged,  and  the  "jackasses" 
washed  out  of  the  hawse-pipes.  We  had  to  secure 
the  bowsprit  by  reeving  the  sheet  chain  through 
the  open  hawse-pipes,  and  then  filling  them  up 
with  improvised  hawse-bags.  The  ship  was  leak- 
ing, and  filled  with  water  between  decks  from  the 
hawse-pipes.  There  was  no  dry  place  to  sleep, 
everywhere  was  wet.  It  was  impossible  to  light 
a  fire  in  the  galley  stove,  and  we  lived  on  hard- 
tack alone.  We  did  tours  of  duty  at  the  pumps, 
and  of  all  the  exhausting  labors  that  can  fall  to 
the  lot  of  a  man,  pumping  out  a  ship  is  the  worst. 
It  was  nearly  impossible  to  go  aloft,  or  even  to 
keep  one's  feet  on  the  deck,  and  if  it  had  not  been 
for  the  life-lines  which  had  been  rigged,  the  men 
would  have  gone  overboard.  When  the  gale 
abated,  we  finally  managed  to  rig  up  a  satisfac- 
tory arrangement  forward  to  serve  until  we  reached 
port. 

81 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

'One  of  the  most  exciting  things  that  would 
happen  would  be  a  sudden  squall.  There  was 
racing  and  chasing  then  to  get  the  canvas  off  the 
ship  before  the  wind  came.  Once  we  were  taken 
aback,  and  the  water  got  suspiciously  near  the 
taffrail  over  the  stern  before  the  ship  paid  off 
and  the  danger  was  averted. 

We  had  false  alarms,  too,  which  were  just  as 
exciting  in  a  way.  One  misty  day  out  in  the 
middle  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  we  were  startled  by 
\vild  cries  of  "Breakers  ahead!  Breakers  on  the 
port  bow!  Breakers  to  starboard!"  It  was  sim- 
ply impossible  for  a  breaker  to  be  within  a  thou- 
sand miles  of  us,  but  at  the  first  cry  all  hands  ran 
to  their  stations,  and  there,  sure  enough,  was  a 
long  line  of  foaming  breakers.  We  soon  found 
it  was  only  a  "tide  rip"  after  all,  but  .while  it 
lasted  the  sensations  were  genuine. 

"Man  overboard!"  used  to  be  a  favorite  cry. 
There  would  be  a  great  splash  in  the  water,  and 
somebody  would  shriek  "Man  overboard!"  In 
an  instant  the  decks  would  be  swarming  with  men, 
but  there  would  be  no  confusion  whatever.  Every 
man  would  be  directed  to  his  station,  and  in  an- 
other instant  there  would  be  a  perfect  silence  on 
the  ship.  A  life  buoy  would  be  cast  adrift,  the 
life-boat  crew  would  lay  aft  on  the  run,  the  ship 
would  be  hove  to  or  other  necessary  evolutions 
performed,  and  the  boat  in  the  water  in  an  in- 
•credibly  short  time.  Only  once  did  a  man  really 
.fall  overboard,  and  he  was  easily  picked  up,  but 

82 


EXPERIENCES  BITTER  AND  OTHERWISE 

the  emotions  were  just  the  same.  We  never  could 
tell  whether  it  was  a  real  alarm  or  no. 

We  used  to  have  fire  quarters  too,  at  all  sorts 
of  hours.  One  never  gets  used  to  such  a  drill 
either,  and  we  always  sprang  to  our  stations  with 
a  little  throb  of  anxiety,  not  satisfied  until  we 
were  piped  down.  I  well  remember  one  time, 
when  a  faint,  thin  stream  of  smoke  trickled  out 
of  the  fore-hatch,  what  my  feelings  were  until 
the  only  real  approach  to  a  conflagration  I  ever 
saw  had  been  put  out.  A  fire  at  sea  must  be  a 
terrible  experience  indeed. 

One  day  we  were  putting  out  of  New  York 
Harbor.  The  Government  did  not  allow  us  the 
luxury  of  a  pilot,  and  the  captain  was  taking  the 
ship  out  himself.  The  wind  was  light  and  at  one 
critical  moment  the  ship  failed  to  come  around 
against  the  tide  and  the  current.  At  the  time 
I  was  lying  ill  in  my  hammock,  on  the  berth-deck. 
There  was  no  one  on  deck  with  me  except  the 
midshipman  in  charge  and  a  half  dozen  "boys" 
(negroes,  servants),  who  were  stationed  there  in 
getting  under  way,  to  haul  to  the  compressor  in 
case  it  became  necessary  to  let  go  the  anchor. 

The  anchor-chains  were  coiled  away  in  huge 
receptacles  called  chain-lockers,  below  decks  and 
right  amidships.  The  chain  ran  through  an  open- 
ing in  the  deck  above,  and  was  prevented  from 
running  violently  out  by  a  huge  sickle-shaped 
piece  of  iron  which  lay  flat  against  the  ceiling; 
when  the  tackle  on  the  end  of  the  compressor 

83 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

was  hauled  taut  it  pressed  the  chain  firmly  against 
the  iron  chain  pipe  and  held  it. 

I  lay  near  the  hatchway  and  the  hurried  orders 
on  deck  were  perfectly  audible  and  easily  under- 
stood. When  the  ship  failed  to  come  around  on 
the  other  tack  she  began  to  drift  down  the  har- 
bor. Before  she  could  be  got  under  control  she 
went  crashing  into  a  huge  iron  freighter  coming 
up.  We  heard  the  orders  and  were  prepared.  I 
had  just  thrust  one  leg  out  of  the  hammock  when 
the  crash  came.  With  a  horrible  sound  the  port 
side  just  abaft  the  foremast  was  stove  in  almost 
to  the  water-line.  The  ship  reeled  from  the  blow. 
Amid  the  breaking  timbers  the  iron  prow  of  the 
other  ship  was  plainly  visible. 

Simultaneously  with  the  impact  there  was  a  black 
flash  of  lightning  up  the  hatchway.  The  negroes 
had  fled  in  a  body.  The  midshipman  in  charge 
and  I  were  preparing  to  follow  suit  when  the 
starboard  anchor  was  let  go,  and  someone  bawled 
down  the  hatchway,  "Haul  to  the  compressor!" 
It  was  ordinarily  done  by  a  dozen  men,  but  fear 
lent  to  two  boys  the  strength  of  the  dozen.  We 
jerked  that  compressor  over  as  it  had  never  been 
hauled  before,  and  securely  belaying  the  fall  we 
followed  the  darkies  on  deck. 

All  was  confusion.  The  bowsprit  of  the  vessel 
we  had  collided  with  was  jammed  in  between  the 
forward  swifter  of  the  foreshrouds  and  the  mast 
itself.  The  two  vessels  were  swinging  in  the  tide 
and  the  foremast  was  shaking  like  a  whip.  I 
htnk  over  twenty  tugs  were  around  us  in  a  few 

84 


EXPERIENCES  BITTER  AND  OTHERWISE 

moments,  everyone  heaving  us  a  towing  line  which 
some  eager  hands,  in  spite  of  orders,  were  fasten- 
ing to  a  bitt  or  some  convenient  point.  We  were 
boys  enough  to  enjoy  the  situation,  and  it  was  only 
after  the  sternest  commands,  backed  by  personal 
supervision  of  the  officers  and  the  free  use  of  axes 
to  cut  away  some  of  the  fasts,  that  we  succeeded 
m  casting  off  the  useless  lines  and  were  finally 
extricated  from  our  exciting  position. 

We  fondly  hoped  that  we  would  return  to  dry- 
dock  and  re-fit,  and  that  opportunity  for  shore 
leave  would  be  abundant,  but  alas,  no!  We  went 
down  the  harbor  to  a  convenient  place,  and,  careen- 
ing the  ship,  spent  the  next  two  weeks  in  repair- 
ing her  ourselves  in  the  broiling  sun  of  August. 

In  due  course  I  finally  arrived  at  the  dignity  of 
officer  of  the  watch!  I  well  remember  the  first 
time  I  was  called  upon  to  tack  ship.  I  had  re- 
hearsed the  necessary  orders  with  the  fullest  com- 
prehension time  and  again  in  the  quiet  of  the  class- 
room, but  when  I  took  the  trumpet,  mounted  to 
the  horse-block  on  the  Dale — she  was  not  large 
enough  for  a  bridge — and  started  to  put  the  theory 
in  practice,  I  found  it  was  an  entirely  different 
affair.  The  heavy  sails  rattling  and  slatting  on 
the  ponderous  yards,  the  crew  waiting  for  your 
orders,  the  ship  pitching  to  and  fro,  were  some- 
what daunting.  The  captain,  a  man  about  six  feet 
high  with  a  dark  Mephistophelian  cast  of  counte- 
nance, stood  behind  me  leaning  against  the  iron 
rail  of  the  horse-block  making  disparaging  re- 
marks on  the  situation. 

85 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND   TENTS 

I  got  the  ship  up  into  the  wind  all  right,  but 
there  she  hung  dead  in  irons,  the  captain  remark- 
ing, so tto  voce,  "This  is  a  nice  tack  you  are  mak- 
ing, sir.  You  will  probably  get  around  before  the 
next  watch  is  called  [some  four  hours  later]. 
This  is  a  wonderful  piece  of  seamanship  on  your 
part,  sir."  Of  course,  I  should  have  paid  no  at- 
tention, but  unfortunately  I  did.  After  the  ship 
got  in  irons  I  frankly  confessed  that  I  did  not 
know  how  to  get  her  about.  Finally  I  was  sum- 
marily dismissed  from  the  horse-block,  and  the 
officer  of  the  deck  worked  the  ship  around  on  the 
other  tack.  One  of  my  preceptors  in  seamanship 
was  an  old  boatswain's  mate  named  Morris.  He 
was  heartbroken  over  my  open  disgrace.  So  was  I ! 

Another  time  I  tried  it  on  the  Dale  again.  We 
were  rather  over-manned,  and  were  provisioned 
for  a  long  cruise.  We  had  no  room  at  the  davits 
for  the  dingy,  a  small  supernumerary  boat,  and 
she  was  stowed  aft  on  the  quarter-deck  with  several 
barrels  of  potatoes  standing  in  her.  I  started  to 
tack  ship,  but  against  a  heavy  sea  she  failed  to 
come  around,  though  I  was  not  in  fault,  and  the 
captain  remarked  that  I  would  better  box-haul, 
an  obsolete  practice  which  was  thought  very  good 
for  the  youngsters.  It  consisted  in  turning  the 
head  of  the  ship  away  from  the  wind,  backing 
her  up  into  the  wind  and  then  swinging  her  around 
on  the  other  tack  again,  the  course  making  a  sort 
of  a  round  "W." 

Of  course,  the  first  thing  to  do  was  to  brace 
a-box  the  head-yards  and  ease  off  the  spanker- 

86 


EXPERIENCES  BITTER  AND  OTHERWISE' 

sheet,  so  that  the  force  of  the  wind  against  that 
fore  and  aft  sail  would  not  keep  her  stern  from 
coming  around.  I  forgot  to  do  this  very  impor- 
tant thing,  and  the  spanker,  full  of  wind,  stood 
out  like  an  iron  board.  The  captain  in  deep  disgust 
watched  me  for  a  while  as  I  stood  wondering  why 
the  ship  did  not  fall  off  and  finally  turned  and 
walked  aft  to  the  lee  side  of  the  quarter-deck. 
As  he  stepped  behind  the  mast  I  followed  him 
with  my  eyes  and  detected  the  cause  of  the  failure 
of  the  evolution.  Without  thinking  of  the  conse- 
quences I  bawled  out  "Let  go  the  spanker-sheet!" 
The  cadets  of  the  after  guard  were  only  too 
willing. 

Eager  hands  threw  the  rope  off  the  belaying 
pin  and  the  spanker-boom  swept  out  to  leeward 
like  a  catapult.  It  struck  the  potato  barrels  in. 
the  dingy  fair  and  square,  hove  them  overboard 
and  scattered  their  contents  far  and  wide  over  the 
ocean.  It  also  just  missed  striking  the  captain 
fair  and  square  as  well!  He  came  darting  out 
from  the  lee  of  the  mast  just  escaping  the  flying- 
boom  with  an  agility  astonishing  in  one  of  his- 
years;  looking  toward  the  cadet,  who  stood  petri- 
fied on  the  horse-block,  he  shouted,  in  a  great 
rage,  "Did  you  do  that  on  purpose,  sir?"  I  was 
summarily  dismissed  again. 

Another  time  I  tried  it,  the  officer  of  the  deck, 
unknown  to  me,  told  the  helmsman  to  cross  my* 
order.  It  was  a  favorite  trick  to  see  what  we 
would  do'.  With  the  helm  pulling  the  ship  one 
way  and  the  sails  driving  her  another,  it  was  im- 

87 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

possible  to  perform  the  evolution.  I  could  not 
think  what  was  the  matter  until  I  discovered  by 
looking  down  at  the  wheel  that  my  order  had  not 
been  obeyed.  When  I  inquired  in  no  mild  tone 
of  voice  why  I  had  not  been  obeyed,  the  helms- 
man remarked  that  the  first  lieutenant  had  or- 
dered him  to  put  the  helm  the  other  way.  Instead 
of  tamely  acquiescing  in  the  situation  as  was  usual, 
I  proceeded  to  berate  him  for  disregarding  my 
orders,  saying  that  so  long  as  I  was  in  charge  of 
the  deck  I  was  in  command,  and  if  I  gave  any 
orders  they  were  to  be  obeyed,  and  so  forth. 
"There,  there,  Mr.  Brady,"  remarked  the  captain, 
"cease  this  talk  about  the  prerogatives  of  your 
exalted  station  and  confine  your  attention  to  get- 
ting the  ship  on  the  starboard  tack  again!" 

They  were  bitter  experiences,  but  I  could  never 
forget  the  joy  that  filled  my  soul  when  I  finally 
did  succeed  in  tacking  the  great  Constellation-  suc- 
cessfully for  the  first  time,  and  a  beautiful  tack  it 
was  too,  much  to  the  delight  of  Mike  Morris.  All 
the  cadets  had  similar  experiences,  and  it  was 
only  through  a  succession  of  failures  that  we 
learned  to  handle  the  frigate. 

We  had  the  same  sort  of  trouble  with  our  navi- 
gation. I  remember  the  first  time  I  worked  out 
a  sight  of  the  sun,  the  result  of  my  calculations 
located  the  ship  on  the  plateau  of  Thibet;  an 
achievement,  the  navigator  remarked,  which  did 
great  credit  to  my  imagination,  if  nothing  else. 

One  of  our  favorite  relaxations  was  to  heave  the 
ship  to  in  the  second  dog-watch,  and  all  hands  go 

88 


EXPERIENCES  BITTER  AND  OTHERWISE 

in  swimming.  A  boat  would  be  manned  and 
stationed  alongside  for  emergencies,  and  the  lower 
studding  sail-boom  dropped  until  the  out-board 
end  reached  the  water,  making  a  convenient  way 
overboard.  The  bolder  spirits,  disdaining  the  boom, 
used  to  dive  from  the  rail  or  the  rigging,  and 
only  the  failure  to  receive  permission  prevented 
them  from  attempting  it  from  the  main-yard- 
arm. 

Of  course  we  did  not  dare  to  do  any  swimming 
when  there  were  sharks  about.  Of  all  the  hateful 
sights  in  the  sea  the  ugly  three-cornered  fin  of  a 
shark,  "Jack  sharkee,"  is  the  worst.  We  saw  lots 
of  them,  and  several  times  fished  for  them,  but 
never  with  any  success,  for  the  beastly  pirate  usu- 
ally got  away  with  the  bait,  hook,  and  everything 
else.  It  was  a  hideous,  blood-curdling  thing  to 
see  one  turn  on  his  back,  exposing  his  white  belly, 
and  snap  up  a  lump  of  pork  or  beef  with  his 
wicked,  cruel-looking  jaws.  Sometimes  one  would 
follow  the  ship  for  several  days  to  the  great  dis- 
quiet of  the  superstitious  sailors. 

The  sharks  were  frequently  preceded  by  a  pe- 
culiar little  fish  called  the  pilot  fish,  and  the  two 
would  invariably  stay  together  in  strange  partner- 
ship. We  saw  lots  of  whales,  or  black  fish  tum- 
bling about  in  large  schools  in  the  water,  playing 
and  gamboling  on  the  surface,  leaping  high  out 
of  the  water  and  falling  back  with  a  tremendous 
splash,  then  sending  their  jets  high  up  in  the  air. 
There  were  schools  of  porpoises,  dolphins,  bonita, 
blue  fish,  giant  turtles  and  flying  fish,  these  last 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND   TENTS 

often  dropped  exhausted  on  the  decks.  Once  in 
a  while  a  great  sea-turtle  would  lumber  across 
our  path.  Indeed,  the  water  teemed  with  life  in 
strange  forms,  and  a  little  watch  over  the  side 
almost  always  brought  a  surprise. 


90 


CHAPTER   VIII 
Fun  Ashore 

The  Dolphin- Striker. — Fishing  a  la  Neptune. — Deep  Water 
Denizens. — Sea  Hazing. — Never  There. — Exhausting  the 
Repertoire. — Two  Dinners. — F and  the  Yankee  Maid- 
en.— The  Crew  and  the  Cow. — Hospitality. — The  Hunters 
Hunted. — A  Hop  on  Deck. — How  we  made  the  Boat. — 
Blasting  Preliminaries. — A  Solitary  Kindness. — Spuds  and 
Sally. — The  Ship's  Barber. — Music  Hath  no  Charms. — 
An  Awful  Come  Down. 

IT  was  not  all  work  on  board  ship,  however,  and 
sometimes  we  had  our  hours  of  fun  and  play. 
For  instance,  here  is  a  novel  method  of  fishing  we 
indulged  in  whenever  we  got  the  chance.  From 
the  bowsprit  of  the  ship  a  long  straight  spar, 
called  aptly  enough  the  dolphin-striker,  depends 
perpendicularly  toward  the  water.  Ropes  lead  to 
the  end  of  this  spar  from  the  jib-boom,  fly  ing- jib- 
boom,  and  the  whisker-booms,  some  of  which,  by 
the  way,  are  called  martingales,  like  the  straps 
on  a  horse's  bridle,  and  the  end  of  the  dolphin- 
striker,  where  these  ropes  and  bob-stays  clustered, 
afforded  a  convenient  standing-place. 

When  we  ran  into  a  school  of  porpoises,  as  we 
frequently  did,  they  would  play  for  hours  around 
the  forefoot  of  the  ship,  keeping  just  ahead  of  us, 
no  matter  how  fast  or  how  slow  we  would  be 
going.  A  pretty  sight  they  would  make  tossing 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

and  leaping  around  the  cut-water,  lifting  their 
brown  backs  out  of  the  water  in  graceful  curves; 
and  almost  the  greatest  sport  we  enjoyed  was 
to  stand  on  the  martingales,  with  one  arm  grasp- 
ing the  dolphin-striker,  and  the  other  holding  a 
"grange,"  a  barbed  trident  on  the  end  of  a  long 
handle,  with  which  we  tried  to  harpoon  the  fish. 
Unless  one  were  expert  it  was  almost  impossible 
to  dart  the  spear  down  quickly  enough  to  catch 
the  porpoise. 

The  fisherman  would  invariably  just  miss  the 
quarry,  until  he  would  learn  to  judge  a  probable 
rise  of  the  fish  before  it  was  made,  and  then  so 
accurately  cast  the  "grange"  that  the  fish  and 
the  barbs  would  meet  at  the  same  moment,  just 
when  the  brown  back  cleared  the  water.  Of 
course  a  line  from  the  ship  would  be  fastened 
to  the  weapon,  so  that  when  the  fish  were  prop- 
erly speared  they  could  easily  be  drawn  on  deck. 
There  was  enough  uncertainty  and  failure  about 
it  to  make  it  a  noble  game. 

We  used  to  catch  bonita  by  fastening  a  bright 
pewter  spoon  by  its  balancing-point  near  a  hook 
on  the  end  of  a  line  of  sufficient  length  so  that 
when  it  was  made  fast  to  the  whisker-boom  the 
spoon  would  just  touch  the  surface  of  the  water. 
If  the  ship  was  going  rapidly  the  spoon  would 
whirl  and  glisten  on  the  waves  in  a  way  that  was 
apparently  very  tempting  to  the  greedy  fish. 

Another  method  of  amusing  ourselves,  and  vary- 
ing the  monotony  of  aimless  cruising,  consisted  in 
initiating  the  newly  joined  cadets  in  the  intricate 

92 


FUN    ASHORE 

customs  of  sea-life.  I  remember  one  lank  lad 
from  the  country,  whom  we  used  to  put  in  the 
chain-locker,  a  huge  box  containing  the  anchor- 
chains,  located  down  in  the  very  bowels  of  the 
ship,  with  instructions  for  him  to  clank  the  chains 
mournfully  together,  remarking  the  while  that  he 
was  not  mad,  "most  noble  Festus,"  or  words  to 
that  effect.  One  night  we  were  enjoying  this  per- 
formance excessively  when  the  executive  officer 
interrupted  the  proceedings  by  remarking,  from  the 
hatchway  above: 

"Now,  young  gentlemen,  if  Mr.  C.  has  recited 
enough  poetry  to  gratify  your  thirst  for  rhythm 
for  one  evening,  don't  you  think  you  would  better 
knock  off  and  turn  in?" 

We  scurried  away  from  the  place  in  a  hurry, 
for  to  be  caught  at  such  practices  invited  dis- 
missal. 

I  remember  on  another  occasion  that  the 
"plebes"  were  being  put  through  a  course  of 
"sprouts"  for  going  on  the  forecastle,  which  was 
regarded  as  especially  sacred  to  the  upper-class- 
men, as  being  the  quarter-deck  of  the  seamen. 
One  bold  youngster  who  was  stationed  on  the 
forecastle  at  general  quarters  essayed  to  stave  off 
the  impending  trouble  by  mildly  remonstrating 
and  remarking  that  he  personally  belonged  on  the 
forecastle. 

"Yes,"  said  the  captain  of  the  forecastle,  a  very 
enterprising  cadet,  "you  do  belong  there,  but  in- 
asmuch as  you  are  never  to  be  found  at  your  post 
of  duty  when  you  are  wanted,  you  will  have  to 

93 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND    TENTS 

take  your  medicine  with  the  rest."  All  of  which 
was  very  hard. 

But  most  of  our  fun  was  on  shore.  Naturally 
after  a  six  weeks'  or  two  months'  diet  of  ship's 
fare,  our  first  consideration  when  we  set  foot  on 
land  anywhere  was  to  gratify  our  appetites  for 
something  to  eat.  Once  when  we  landed  at  New 
London  four  of  us  immediately  made  for  an  ice- 
cream saloon.  We  solemnly  entered  and  took  our 
places.  The  solitary  waitress  informed  us  that 
they  had  four  kinds  of  cream — strawberry,  orange, 
vanilla,  and  chocolate.  We  all  took  strawberry; 
when  we  had  finished  that  we  ordered  orange; 
when  we  had  finished  the  second  plate  we  ordered 
chocolate.  The  maid  was  in  a  state  of  nervous 
collapse  when  we  ended  the  orgie  by  ordering — 
and  eating,  too — a  plate  of  vanilla  apiece!  Like 
Alexander,  we  sighed  thereafter  because  we  had 
exhausted  the  bill  of  fare. 

After  another  cruise  some  of  us  dined  at  the 
Astor  House.  When  we  had  finished  the  elabo- 
rate dinner,  somebody  suggested  that  we  go 
through  the  menu  again,  which  we  all  gravely 
proceeded  to  do,  subsequently  paying  for  two 
dinners  apiece  for  our  fun. 

Boylike,  we  used  to  endeavor  to  ingratiate  our- 
selves in  the  favor  of  the  young  girls  of  the  dif- 
ferent places  where  we  landed,  especially  up  along 
the  New  England  coast,  and  frequently  we  tried 
this  without  the  formality  of  an  introduction. 
There  was  one  particular  youth  who  fancied  him- 
self an  expert  at  this  game,  and  this  is  what  hap- 

94 


FUN   ASHORE 

pened  to  him  on  one  memorable  occasion.  We 
landed  a  boat  party  at  a  little  Connecticut  village 
one  afternoon  to  do  some  surveying.  In  the 
course  of  our  wanderings  we  came  across  a  farm- 
house in  which  there  lived  a  very  pretty  and  ap- 
parently unsophisticated  girl.  When  we  had  taken 
our  departure  from  the  house,  F lingered  be- 
hind, and  when  we  reached  the  shore  and  prepared 
to  embark  he  was  nowhere  to  be  found. 

After  waiting  a  reasonable  time  for  him,  the 
officer  in  charge  suggested  that  we  go  and  look 
for  him.  Accordingly  the  whole  party  retraced 
its  steps.  When  we  reached  the  farm-yard  we 

found  F metaphorically  and  literally  up  a 

large  apple-tree.  There  was  a  huge,  ferocious 
dog  barking  frantically  at  the  foot  of  the  tree, 
and  the  unsophisticated  little  maiden  was  seated 
quietly  on  the  porch  enjoying  the  situation  and 

sternly  disregarding  F 's  pleas  to  be  released. 

F had  attempted  to  flirt  with  her,  and  she 

had  very  properly  "sicked"  the  dog  on  him. 

We  lined  up  outside  the  fence,  took  off  our  caps 
to  the  merry  young  lady  in  genuine  admiration, 
and  then  took  in  the  situation.  Presently  the 

officer  directed  F to  come  down  and  rejoin 

the  party  at  once.  He  naturally  demurred  on  ac- 
count of  the  dog  on  the  ground.  The  officer,  with 

a  twinkle  in  his  eye,  ordered  F to  report 

immediately  or  face  a  charge  of  disobedience  of 
orders.  The  girl,  seeing  the  predicament  of  the 
flirtatious  cadet,  mercifully  relented,  called  off  the 

dog,  and  the  crestfallen  F clambered  down 

95 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

from  his  perch  and  rejoined  the  boat's  crew.  He 
was  cured,  and,  although  he  became  a  confirmed 
misogynist,  he  never  heard  the  last  of  it. 

One  day  a  shore  party  was  detailed  to  land  on 
one  of  the  little  islands  in  Buzzard's  Bay,  to  see 
if  they  could  get  some  fresh  milk  for  the  captain 
from  one  of  the  cows  running  loose  on  the  island. 
A  cow  was  soon  captured  without  much  difficulty 
by  the  seamen,  who  proceeded  to  fasten  her  in  the 
most  ship-shape  style.  They  clapped  a  tackle  on 
each  leg  and  bowsed  it  taut,  rove  a  whip  from 
her  tail  to  a  tree,  and  then  attempted  to  milk  the 
cow. 

The  intricate  profession  of  seamanship  does  not 
include  instruction  in  the  gentle  art  of  milking 
cows,  and  this  particular  cow  promptly  resented 
the  blundering  attempts  of  the  tars.  With  an  as- 
tonishing display  of  vigor,  she  kicked  herself  free 
from  the  tackles,  and  proceeded  to  make  things 
interesting  for  the  shore  party.  The  captain,  who 
watched  the  whole  performance  from  the  ship,  was 
much  disgusted,  remarking  that  with  half  a  dozen 
cows  like  that  he  could  clean  out  the  whole  ship's 
company.  He  got  no  milk  for  his  coffee  that  day. 

The  hospitality  of  the  Yankees  is  supposed  to  be 
proverbial.  One  day  a  party  of  us  went  ashore  on 
a  little  island  in  Buzzard's  Bay  and  asked  a  woman 
at  a  farm-house  to  give  us  a  glass  of  milk.  There 
were  four  or  five  of  us,  and  she  gave  each  of  us 
a  glass  from  a  large  can  which  she  had.  We  had 
supposed  the  milk  was  a  gift,  but  as  we  turned 
away  after  thanking  her  we  were  met  with  a  de- 


FUN   ASHORE 

mand  for  some  coin  of  the  realm.  Not  having 
any  "coin  of  the  realm,"  one  of  us  was  compelled 
to  give  up  his  jack-knife  in  liquidation  of  the 
claim. 

Speaking  of  milk  and  the  prowess  of  the  cow 
reminds  me  of  a  certain  greased  pig  whose  ac- 
quaintance I  made.  We  had  athletic  sports  on 
shore  on  Thanksgiving  Day,  which  usually  termi- 
nated in  the  chase  of  a  greased  pig.  Two  men 
from  each  mess  were  appointed  to  chase  the  pig, 
and  the  mess  whose  representatives  succeeded  in 
corralling  the  animal  had  roast  pig  for  supper 
that  night. 

The  masters  of  the  revels  in  this  instance,  in- 
stead of  procuring  the  usual  tame,  fat,  sleepy 
"porker,"  got  from  somewhere  in  the  South  a 
razor-back  hog,  as  lively  as  a  deer  and  as  thin 
as  a  rail.  They  left  him  without  food  or  drink 
for  some  time,  so  that  when  he  was  turned  loose 
on  the  parade  ground  he  was  in  first-class  fighting 
trim.  That  pig  didn't  wait  to  be  chased.  He 
made  for  the  chasers  the  very  minute  he  saw  them, 
and  of  all  the  exciting  times  in  which  I  ever  par- 
ticipated that  was  the  worst.  He  was  finally  run 
down  and  overpowered,  but  the  unfortunate  mess 
got  very  little  satisfaction  from  his  gaunt  sides. 

Sometimes  we  had  a  party  on  shipboard.  It 
usually  took  place  at  Fortress  Monroe.  The  decks 
would  be  enclosed  with  awnings  and  flags,  and 
the  music  would  be  arranged  from  the  inevitable 
fiddlers  and  accordion  players  among  the  crew, 
and  boats  would  be  sent  to  the  wharves  to  bring 

97 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

off  the  fair,  and  a  gala  time  would  ensue.  For- 
tress Monroe  was  always  our  most  delightful 
stopping-place.  Girls  were  plenty  and  opportuni- 
ties likewise.  The  cadets  were  always  welcome 
at  the  hotel,  and  we  neglected  no  opportunity  to 
improve  the  shining  hour. 

I  know  one  cadet  who  spent  one  afternoon  stroll- 
ing around  the  ramparts  of  the  fort  with  a  very 
charming  little  maiden  from  New  Orleans.  The 
lapse  of  time  was  completely  unnoticed  by  either 
of  the  two.  It  was  the  culmination  of  an  acquaint- 
ance of  several  days,  for  the  young  lady  was  to 
leave  that  afternoon,  and  the  practice  ship  was 
to  sail  the  next  morning.  The  two  young  people 
were  aroused  from  their — shall  I  say  devotions? — 
l>y  the  stern  voice  of  the  young  lady's  brother. 

"Daisy!"  he  exclaimed,  "what  have  you  been 
•doing?  Where  have  you  been?  Mother  is  almost 
crazy!  We  have  looked  everywhere  for  you  and 
the  Norfolk  boat  is  about  to  leave.  I  doubt  if 
we  can  .catch  it." 

"It's  my  fault,"  cried  the  cadet,  gallantly,  "but 
we'll  get  the  boat  all  right.  You  take  one  hand 
and  I  will  take  the  other,  and  we'll  get  there 
easily." 

The  garrison,  the  tourists  on  shore,  the  guests 
of  the  hotel,  and  the  loungers  on  the  porches  of 
the  hotels,  were  astonished  at  seeing  two  young 
lads  rushing  madly  toward  the  boat  with  a  young 
girl  fairly  streaming  out  behind  them  like  a  ban- 
ner from  a  staff.  They  reached  the  boat  safely, 
however,  and  pitched  the  bedraggled  young  maiden 


FUN    ASHORE 

on  board  in  a  breathless  heap  just  as  the  gang- 
plank was  dragged  in.  The  girl's  mother  stood 
on  the  upper  deck  looking  daggers  at  the  unbeaten 
but  exhausted  cadet. 

Near  the  end  of  one  of  our  cruises  we  dropped 
anchor  at  Fortress  Monroe.  We  were  simply 
wild  to  go  ashore.  We  had  made  some  pleasant 
acquaintances  at  Old  Point  at  the  beginning  of 
the  voyage,  which  we  were  anxious  to  renew,  so 
a  deputation  called  on  the  captain  and  asked,  in 
a  most  humble  manner,  permission  to  have  shore 
leave  for  the  afternoon  and  evening.  The  captain 
was  unusually  complaisant  and  gracious. 

"Certainly,"  he  said,  "certainly,  young  gentle- 
men. I  shall  be  very  glad  to  give  you  leave  after 
the  exercises  of  the  day  are  over."  We  beamed 
upon  him  with  gratitude  until  he  remarked  apropos 
of  those  exercises,  "For  our  day's  work  we  will 
now  proceed  to  shift  topmasts!"  There  was  no 
more  arduous  labor  that  could  have  been  given 
us  than  shifting  topmasts.  We  worked  from  eight 
o'clock  in  the  morning  until  six  at  night  over 
heavy  spars,  and  then  with  breaking  backs,  strained 
arms,  and  bruised  fingers  we  were  in  no  mood  for 
the  gayeties  of  the  hotel. 

I  remember  on  one  occasion  in  a  very  inviting 
port  I  was  quarantined  for  some  boyish  foolish- 
ness, and  was  most  anxious  to  go  ashore.  I  asked 
the  captain  if  I  might  not  have  permission  to  land 
and  take  a  bath.  "Bath!"  he  replied,  scornfully, 
"when  I  was  a  reefer,  I  never  took  a  bath  except 
over  the  side!  Can't  you  do  the  same?"  I  hes- 

99 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND   TENTS 

itated  a  moment  and  he  continued,  "It  is  not  a 
bath  you  are  after,  is  it?"  I  confessed  frankly 
that  I  had  some  friends  I  wished  to  see.  The 
captain  laughed  and  for  a  wonder  relented  and 
allowed  me  to  go. 

We  had  a  captain  on  one  cruise  who  rejoiced  in 
the  name  of  "Spuds."  His  executive  officer  was 
called  "Sally";  for  what  reason  these  names  had 
been  originally  bestowed  it  was  difficult  to  find 
out.  Both  were  capable  and  experienced  officers, 
one  of  them  did  splendid  service  at  Manila,  while 
the  other  efficiently  commanded  a  vessel  in  the 
Cuban  blockade  in  the  last  war,  but  we  hated 
"Spuds"  for  a  captain,  and  we  didn't  love  "Sally" 
for  a  first  luff.  Why,  I  cannot  exactly  remember, 
either.  I  suppose  it  was  because  neither  would 
tolerate  any  nonsense  on  our  part. 

After  we  had  written  up  in  our  journals  all  the 
events  of  the  day  we  handed  them  in  to  the  cap- 
tain as  was  required.  One  unfortunate  cadet  made 
a  mistake  and  handed  in  his  private  journal  in- 
stead of  the  public  one.  In  the  pages  of  it  he 
had  discoursed  "feelingly  upon  the  misfortune  of 
having  "Spuds"  for  a  captain,  and  "Sally"  for  a 
first  luff. 

The  cold  chills  run  down  my  spine  even  now 
when  I  think  of  the  tone  of  voice  in  which  the 
captain  addressed  me,  and  asked  me  why  the 
cadets  called  him  "Spuds,"  and  the  executive 
officer  "Sally"!  He  remarked  that,  so  far  as  he 
was  concerned,  it  was  a  matter  of  indifference  to 
him  what  he  was  called,  but  he  wanted  it  to  be 

100 


A   TYPICAL  OLD  JACK   TAR. 

Mike  Morris,  Chief  Boatswain's  Mate,  United  States  Navy. 
Our  preceptor  in   "  knot-and-splice  "  seamanship. 


FUN   ASHORE  N;  V- 


distinctly  understood  that  I  ^hc&lcfc 
among  the  cadets  that  no  man  on  any  ship  com- 
manded by  him  should  be  called  "Sally"!  The 
other  midshipmen  who  overheard  the  conversa- 
tion, which  the  captain  took  no  pains  to  conceal, 
greatly  enjoyed  the  situation.  It  was  filled  with 
terror  to  me. 

We  had  a  ship's  barber  whose  name  I  forget, 
but  he  was  always  known  as  "Polly,"  because  of 
a  fancied  resemblance  to  the  officer  I  have  referred 
to,  who  was  always  called  "Polly."  One  of  the 
cadets  happened  to  address  the  barber  by  his 
nickname  in  the  presence  of  the  officer  for  whom 
he  was  named.  He  was  totally  unable  to  explain 
to  the  officer  in  any  adequate  way  how  it  was  the 
name  happened  to  be  applied  to  the  barber,  in 
spite  of  searching  questions.  This,  too,  was  an 
enjoyable  situation  for  the  bystanders. 

That  barber  was  as  deaf  as  a  post.  When  we 
got  under  way,  he  was  called  upon,  with  other 
idlers,  to  man  the  capstan  bars.  He  was  of  a 
musical  turn  of  mind  and  heartily  joined  in  the 
ringing  choruses  with  which  we  broke  out  the 
anchor.  The  noise  we  made  on  one  occasion  be- 
came very  unpleasant  to  the  first  lieutenant,  who 
was  not  musical.  The  officer  called  down  the 
main  hatch  that  the  singing  should  cease.  We 
stopped,  of  course,  that  is,  all  but  poor  old  "Polly 
B."  He  kept  on  singing  and  heaving  away  in 
spite  of  the  lieutenant's  repeated  and  frantic  orders. 
The  rest  of  us  were  so  busy  listening  to  the  music 
above  and  below  that  nobody  cautioned  the  barber 

101 


UNDE&TOPS'LS    AND   TENTS 


pe&L  leaving.  The  first  lieutenant 
packed  him  ashore  forthwith  the  next  day,  and 
for  a  time  we  did  without  any  ship's  barber. 

We  had  a  ship's  bugler  on  one  cruise,  and  he 
was  undoubtedly  the  worst  bugler  I  ever  heard. 
Whenever  we  landed  it  was  a  regular  thing  to 
have  a  marine  take  the  bugler  to  the  most  lone- 
some and  most  inaccessible  spot  on  shore  where 
he  could  be  undisturbed  and  have  him  practice 
blowing  the  calls.  Such  wailings  and  catawaul- 
ings  as  he  got  out  of  that  horn  I  never  heard. 
Finally,  in  utter  disgust,  the  executive  officer  took 
his  bugle  from  him  and  made  him  a  poor  gun- 
deck  sweeper  !  We  got  along  without  any  bugling 
after  that. 


1 02 


CHAPTER   IX 
In  Sunshine   and   in   Fog 

An  Epic  of  the  Laundry. — Having  Fun  with  the  Wash. — Run- 
ning the  Gauntlet. — The  Rival  Captains. — Letters  from 
Home.— "Keep  a  Little  Farther  Off."— A  Fog  Apparition, 
—Icebergs  !— Black  Jack's  Pluck.— An  Ill-provided  Ship.— 
A  Sailor's  Ingenuity. — A  Cast  of  the  "Dipsey"  Lead. — "I 
Pulled  Him,  Suh !"— The  Painter.— A  Cargo  of  Melons. — 
A  High  Time  in  Vineyard  Sound.— The  End. 

ONE  day  we  dropped  anchor  in  the  harbor  of 
Portland.  We  had  been  at  sea  some  six  or 
seven  weeks  in  the  Constellation  and  no  opportu- 
nity for  having  our  clothes  washed  had  hitherto 
presented  itself.  The  midshipmen-mess  officers 
contracted  with  a  local  laundry  to  do  the  cadets* 
washing.  Word  was  passed  on  shipboard,  and  all 
hands  immediately  filled  their  laundry  bags  to  be 
sent  on  shore. 

One  of  the  iron-clad  requirements  of  the  cruise 
was  that  everybody's  clothes  should  be  properly 
marked.  The  injunctions  had  been  generally  com- 
plied with.  The  clothes  were  all  marked  and 
each  man's  laundry  was  accompanied  by  a  proper 
list.  The  pile  of  clothes  for  six  weeks  for  ojifr 
hundred  and  seventy-five  cadets  was  an  enormous- 
one,  and  when  it  was  landed  on  the  wharf  it  evi- 
dently staggered  the  laundryman. 

103 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

That  afternoon  we  sailed  on  a  little  excursion 
along  the  coast  and  came  back  after  a  week's 
absence.  Boats  were  sent  ashore  to  get  the  laun- 
dry, which  was  brought  off  done  up  in  neat 
bundles,  each  one  marked  with  a  cadet's  name. 
As  we  were  getting  under  way  at  once  the  bun- 
dles were  passed  below  and  not  opened  until  we 
got  to  sea.  When  we  were  clear  of  the  harbor 
word  was  passed  for  the  cadets  to  go  below  and 
put  away  their  wash.  We  opened  the  bundles  on 
the  berth-deck. 

The  magnitude  of  the  task  had  absolutely  over- 
whelmed the  laundryman  evidently,  and  while  the 
things  had  been  washed  in  some  fashion,  though 
most  of  the  articles  had  not  been  starched  or  ironed, 
he  had  been  utterly  unable  to  sort  them  out  prop- 
erly. My  particular  bundle  contained  a  couple 
of  dozen  of  hammock  sheets  and  nothing  else; 
another  man  rejoiced  in  the  possession  of  quan- 
tities of  collars,  or  a  selected  line  of  underwear, 
or  bags  of  handkerchiefs,  or  unknown  numbers  of 
socks ! 

The  matter  might  have  been  straightened  out, 
however,  if  one  of  the  cadets,  playfully  indignant 
over  the  occurrence,  had  not  genially  hove  his 
bundle,  of  towels,  for  instance,  at  the  next  man's 
head.  A  return  in  kind  was  immediately  made, 
and  in  five  minutes  we  were  pummelling  each 
other  with  the  wash  in  wild  confusion.  The  deck 
was  soon  covered  with  an  indistinguishable  mass 
of  articles  of  wearing  apparel,  from  which,  when 
the  excitement  died  down,  each  boy  chose  what 

104 


IN    SUNSHINE   AND    IN    FOG 

he  would,  according  to  his  fancy,  and  then  went 
to  work  to  effect  changes  by  barter  and  sale  and 
thus  secure  some  excuse  for  a  complete  outfit. 

All  marks  were  disregarded.  For  instance,  one 
lad  would  engineer  a  corner  in  collars  of  assorted 
sizes,  and  by  trading  a  collar  for  a  pair  of  socks, 
a  handkerchief,  or  any  other  article  of  wearing 
apparel,  get  other  things  he  needed.  The  socks 
might  not  be  mates,  indeed  it  was  preferred  that 
they  should  not  be.  It  took  us  hours  to  evoke 
any  sort  of  order  out  of  the  chaos,  and  when 
matters  -had  settled  down  and  the  clothing  had 
been  distributed  in  some  fashion,  we  discovered 
that  at  least  one-half  of  it  had  not  come  back! 

We  went  back  to  Portland  again  a  week  after, 
and  the  laundryman  came  off  to  the  ship  when  we 
dropped  anchor  with  a  handful  of  bills.  By  the 
captain's  orders  the  unfortunate  man  was  sent 
below  to  the  berth-deck,  where  we  were  congre- 
gated ready  for  him.  He  had  an  interesting 
quarter  of  an  hour  and  left  the  ship  in  terror 
of  his  life,  followed  by  a  shower  of  bills  for 
missing  articles,  which  we  had  been  industriously 
preparing  at  odd  moments  during  the  week.  We 
were  a  queerly  dressed  lot,  as  far  as  linen,  hosiery, 
and  underwear  were  concerned,  during  the  rest 
of  the  cruise. 

The  captain  had  a  tantalizing  way  of  taking  us 
into 'all  sorts  of  delightful  harbors  and  coming 
out  again  without  dropping  anchor  even.  We 
would  felicitate  ourselves  that  this  time  we  were 
sure  to  get  ashore,  when  orders  would  be  given 

105 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

and  out  we  would  go,  just  having  taken  a  look 
around.  "Spuds"  soon  found  out  that  we  didn't 
love  him,  and  the  knowledge  did  not  improve  his 
disposition.  When  we  made  New  York  Harbor 
for  the  first  time  after  a  long  cruise  it  can  easily 
be  imagined  how  anxious  we  were  to  reach  our 
anchorage,  get  the  mail,  and  have  shore  leave. 
Off  the  mouth  of  the  channel  we  were  met  by  a 
tug-boat  which  offered  to  tow  us  to  our  landing- 
place  at  Tompkinsville  for  seventy-five  dollars. 
The  captain  replying  in  the  negative,  the  skipper 
of  the  tug  abated  his  price  by  degrees  until  his 
modest  demand  only  amounted  to  twenty-five  dol- 
lars. We  would  have  cheerfully  paid  the  amount 
out  of  our  depleted  exchequer,  but  the  captain 
still  refused,  remarking  at  last  that  he  had  one 
hundred  and  fifty  young  men  on  board  who  de- 
sired nothing  better  than  to  work  the  ship  up  the 
harbor  unaided.  The  big  tugman  was  mad.  From 
the  deck  of  his  tossing  little  craft  he  surveyed 
the  captain,  a  very  tall,  dark-complexioned  man. 

"Well,  what  are  you  anyhow?"  he  shouted, 
angrily.  "A  damned  Portuguese!" 

The  captain  disdained  to  reply,  but  we  took 
some  comfort  out  of  the  tugman's  scurrilous 
remarks. 

All  day  long  we  beat  up  the  channel  and  did 
not  reach  our  anchorage  until  nightfall.  We  were 
met  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon  by  a  steam 
launch  from  the  New  York  Navy  Yard,  carrying 
our  mail  in  huge  bags.  The  bags  were  taken 
below  to  the  captain's  cabin,  and  not  until  we 

106 


IN    SUNSHINE   AND   IN   FOG 

had  reached  our  destination  late  in  the  evening 
were  the  letters  distributed.  The  midshipman  mate 
of  the  deck  followed  the  simple  practice  of  calling 
out  the  names  of  the  letters  as  he  ran  over  them, 
and  every  boy  crowded  through  the  mass  of  strug- 
gling cadets  to  get  what  was  due  him.  How  we 
prized  those  letters!  They  gave  us  news  from 
home,  of  course. 

Our  first  thought  when  we  entered  a  port  was 
news,  and  the  officers  used  to  hail  the  pilot-boats 
to  find  out  what  was  going  on  in  the  world. 
During  one  of  my  cruises  President  Garfield  was 
shot,  and  one  of  the  first  questions  that  would  be 
asked  would  be,  "How  is  the  President  of  the 
United  States?"  I  was  on  the  'Dale  at  that  time, 
and  we  were  cruising  in  company  with  the  Constel- 
lation, which  was  the  flagship  of  the  little  squad- 
ron. The  Dale  overhauled  a  shore  boat  one  after- 
noon and  learned  that  the  President  was  better. 
Our  captain  immediately  rushed  his  ship  toward 
the  Constellation.  By  a  piece  of  bold  and  splendid 
seamanship  we  sailed  past  the  stern  of  the  latter 
ship  so  closely  that  you  could  have  tossed  a  biscuit 
aboard  of  her.  The  commodore  came  out  on  deck, 
and  our  captain  saluted  him  in  this  way: 

"Good-afternoon,  Captain  McN ,  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States  is  better." 

"Thank  you,"  remarked  the  captain,  testily. 
"Keep  a  little  farther  off!" 

That  also  delighted  us,  and  we  made  use  of  the 
harmless  phrase,  "Keep  a  little  farther  off"  when- 

107 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND   TENTS 

ever  we  legitimately  could  in  the  course  of  ordi- 
nary conversation  in  the  captain's  hearing. 

Speaking  of  sailing  near  the  Constellation  re- 
minds me  of  an  incident  in  a  fog.  We  had  been 
poking  along  under  easy  sail  in  the  midst  of  a 
dense  fog  for  several  days,  blowing  the  fog-horn 
and  ringing  the  ship's  bell  assiduously,  to  let  any 
vessels  which  might  be  in  our  vicinity  know  of  our 
presence,  when  suddenly  out  of  the  fog,  close 
aboard  of  us,  rose  the  bow  of  a  big  iron  sailing 
ship.  She  had  come  into  view  as  silently  as  the 
mist  itself,  and,  without  a  moment's  warning, 
rushed  down  upon  us.  They  had  blown  no  horn, 
rung  no  bell,  made  no  sound. 

The  officer  of  the  deck  at  the  time,  known 
among  us  as  "Black  Jack,"  was  a  thorough  sea- 
man. Without  a  second's  hesitation  he  gave  the 
proper  orders,  shifted  the  helm,  and  the  big  white 
ship  rushed  by  our  quarter,  her  side  almost  touch- 
ing us — a  fearfully  narrow  escape.  In  a  few 
seconds  she  had  faded  away  in  the  enshrouded 
sea.  It  was  almost  like  a  dream. 

During  that  fog  we  got  into  close  proximity  to 
some  icebergs,  but  the  chill  they  gave  to  the 
atmosphere  warned  us  of  their  presence.  We 
gave  them  a  wide  berth,  and  could  just  see  them 
dimly  gleaming  through  the  mist-laden  atmosphere. 

Speaking  of  "Black  Jack"  reminds  me  of  a 
plucky  act  of  his  one  night  at  New  London.  The 
officers  were  going  to  a  dance  on  shore  that  even- 
ing and  "Black  Jack"  was  arrayed  in  the  fullest 
of  full  dress  for  the  occasion.  Just  before  they 

108 


IN    SUNSHINE   AND    IN   FOG 

entered  the  launch  a  shore  party  of  sailors  came 
aboard.  Among  them  was  a  great  big  six-foot 
negro  who  was  just  full  enough  of  whiskey  to 
be  reckless  and  insulting.  As  they  were  being 
searched  by  the  master-at-arms  the  way  the  negro 
went  for  the  officer  looking  on  was  a  caution. 
"Black  Jack"  stood  it  for  a  little  while,  and  finally 
ordered  the  man  to  keep  quiet.  The  negro,  by  way 
of  reply,  struggled  forward  and  aimed  a  blow  at 
him. 

"Black  Jack"  was  a  little  man,  but  his  muscles 
were  made  of  steel,  likewise  his  heart.  He  didn't 
wait  a  second.  Instead  of  summoning  the  marine 
guard  to  his  assistance,  he  seized  the  negro  by 
the  collar  of  his  shirt,  whirled  him  about,  rushed 
him  forward  over  the  deck,  and  pitched  him  bodily 
down  the  fore  hatch  before  the  man  knew  what 
had  happened  to  him.  Then  he  calmly  directed 
the  master-at-arms  to  put  the  recalcitrant  man  in 
the  brig.  He  turned  then  and  walked  aft,  drew 
off  his  white  gloves,  which  had  become  soiled  in 
the  scuffle,  sent  a  midshipman  to  his  state-room 
for  another  pair,  and  went  quietly  off  to  the  hall. 
We  loved  him  for  that  exploit. 

That  fog  I  spoke  of  reminds  me  of  a  curious 
incident.  We  had  enjoyed  fair  weather  for  some 
two  weeks  and  at  the  end  of  that  time  ran  into 
the  tail  end  of  a  fog  which  we  afterward  learned 
had  been  lying  over  the  ocean  for  some  time. 
When  it  broke  the  day  after  we  ran  into  it,  we 
found  we  were  some  distance  away  from  a  large 
Swedish  merchant  ship.  As  soon  as  she  made  us 

109 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

out  she  hoisted  a  set  of  international  signals,  giv- 
ing her  name,  nationality,  and  afterward  asking 
a  question  which  we  immediately  made  out  by 
means  of  the  signal  book. 

She  had  been  without  an  observation  for  some 
ten  days,  owing  to  the  fog  and  bad  weather,  and 
desired  us  to  give  her  the  latitude  and  longitude, 
that  she  might  know  her  position.  By  a  singular 
oversight  we  had  gone  to  sea  without  the  flags  of 
the  international  code,  though  we  did  have  the 
signal  book. 

How  to  answer  her  question  was  a  problem,  the 
solution  of  which  finally  occurred  to  the  navigating 
officer.  A  great  tarpaulin — which  is  a  piece  of 
canvas  tarred  and  varnished — which  had  been  used 
to  cover  the  boom-boats,  i.e.,  the  larger  small  boats, 
which  were  stowed  amid-ships  on  deck  instead  of 
being  suspended  from  davits,  was  stretched  along 
the  deck.  With  a  huge  lump  of  carpenter's  chalk 
the  navigator  wrote  the  latitude  and  longitude  in 
letters  and  figures  about  six  feet  high  on  the  black 
surface.  The  tarpaulin  was  then  triced  up  be- 
tween the  fore-  and  mainmasts.  The  inquiring 
Swedes  with  their  glasses  could  easily  read  the 
figures.  Signalling  "Thank  you,"  to  which  they 
would  have  added  a  gigantic  laugh  at  our  ingen- 
uity if  the  code  had  provided  for  it,  they  went 
on  their  way  rejoicing.  It  was  a  singular  state 
of  affairs  for  a  United  States  ship  to  go  to  sea 
without  any  signal  flags. 

Speaking  of  fog  reminds  me  of  one  occasion 
when  we  had  been  knocking  around  about  the 

no 


IN    SUNSHINE   AND   IN   FOG 

coast  for  several  days  without  being  able  to  get 
an  observation  to  find  out  where  we  were.  The 
night  fell  dark  and  stormy,  and  the  captain  be- 
came uneasy  as  to  his  position,  and  determined  to 
get  a  cast  of  the  deep-sea  lead,  if  possible,  to  get 
what  assurance  he  could  by  ascertaining  the  depth 
of  the  water. 

Now  the  deep-sea  lead — pronounced  "dipsey," 
by  the  way — is  a  very  heavy  piece  of  lead  at  the 
end  of  a  very  long  line,  and  the  method  of  heaving 
it  is  this:  the  lead  is  taken  forward  outside  of 
everything,  men  are  stationed  on  the  rail  of  the 
ship,  each  one  with  a  little  coil  of  the  lead  line  in 
his  hand.  The  ship  is  then  hove  to.  The  lead  is 
dropped  overboard  by  the  first  man  forward,  with 
the  cry  of  "Watch  ho,  watch!"  The  next  man 
allows  his  coil  to  run  out  of  his  hand  slowly  until 
it  is  exhausted,  then  it  passes  to  the  third  man, 
and  so  on,  the  same  cry,  "Watch  ho,  watch !"  being 
repeated  in  succession.  The  line  is  allowed  to  drop 
slowly  until  the  lead  touches  bottom,  which  fact 
is  known  by  the  stoppage  of  the  pull  upon  the  line. 

It  was  pitch  dark  when  we  first  attempted  the 
practice.  Through  some  misunderstanding  or  lack 
of  instruction,  instead  of  waiting  for  the  pull  of 
the  lead  to  release  the  line  at  the  first  cry  of 
"Watch  ho,  watch!"  everybody  holding  the  line 
frantically  hove  his  coil.  Of  course  it  was  impos- 
sible to  tell  how  deep  the  water  was,  whether  the 
lead  was  on  bottom,  or  anything  about  it.  The 
captain  was  furious,  and  we  spent  the  next  hour 
hauling  in  and  recoiling  the  lead  lines.  It  was  a 

in 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND   TENTS 

long  time  before  we  really  got  the  proper  cast,  and 
that  reminds  me  of  another  night  happening. 

Hanging  over  the  stern  were  two  life-buoys, 
patent  arrangements  with  Greek  fire  torches.  When 
anyone  fell  overboard  the  trigger  igniting  the 
torches  and  releasing  the  buoys  was  to  be  pulled. 
There  was  always  a  man  stationed  by  each  life- 
buoy when  the  ship  was  under  way,  to  be  pre- 
pared for  emergencies.  The  bells  were  struck 
every  half  hour,  at  which  time,  beginning  in  suc- 
cession forward,  each  man  called  out  the  name 
of  his  station,  to  show  that  he  was  awake  of  course. 
One  night  an  ignorant  colored  boy  was  stationed 
at  the  life-buoy.  His  duties  were  carefully  ex- 
plained to  him,  but  he  evidently  failed  to  appre- 
hend them;  for  when  one  bell  in  the  midwatch 
struck  there  was  a  violent  explosion  aft,  and  the 
colored  boy  gleefully  shouted,  "I  pulled  him,  suh! 
I  done  pull  him,  suh!"  We  hove  to  and  spent  half 
of  the  watch  hunting  for  the  buoy.  The  port-fire, 
or  torch,  as  usual,  had  failed  to  ignite. 

As  is  well  known,  the  rope  by  which  a  small 
boat  is  attached  to  a  wharf,  or  anything  else,  is 
called  the  "painter."  The  captain's  clerk  was  a 
nice  man,  but  no  seaman.  He  was  alone  in  the 
boat  swinging  alongside  one  day,  when  the  officer 
of  the  deck  roared  out  "Boat,  there !  Pass  up  that 
painter!"  The  captain's  clerk  looked  up  in  a  very 
puzzled  manner  at  his  superior,  and  innocently 
remarked,  "There's  nobody  in  the  boat  but  me, 
sir!"  He  was  called  "painter"  ever  after  on  that 
cruise. 

112 


IN    SUNSHINE   AND    IN    FOG 

Our  larder  was  sometimes  replenished  in  a  prov- 
idential way.  For  instance,  one  summer  day  we 
overhauled  a  schooner  loaded  with  watermelons 
from  Georgia.  Think  of  it;  every  man  jack  of 
us,  from  the  captain  of  the  ship  to  the  captain 
of  the  head,  bought  a  watermelon,  and  the  ship 
presented  a  picture  after  the  loads  had  been  de- 
livered. The  captain  ate  his  melon  in  the  cabin, 
we  ate  ours  on  deck.  One  day  off  the  Massachu- 
setts coast  we  overhauled  a  fishing  schooner,  and 
bought  out  nearly  the  whole  catch,  and  a  welcome 
relief  the  mess  proved  to  our  usual  dreary  ship's 
fare. 

We  aiways  endeavored  to  have  a  stock  of  suit- 
able literature  on  board  for  reading  in  the  few 
moments  allotted  to  us  for  that  purpose.  On  one 
cruise,  by  a  succession  of  mishaps,  we  were  kept 
at  sea  an  unusual  time,  and  the  cadets  had  read 
literally  everything  on  the  ship  except  two  books. 
These  two  were  the  Bible  and  Tennyson;  in  de- 
fault of  all  others  we  were  forced  to  undertake 
these. 

In  the  dog-watches  on  the  calm,  peaceful  after- 
noons one  man  would  read  aloud  to  a  large  crowd 
on  the  forecastle.  We  read  dispassionately  the 
two  books  together,  and  I  can  truthfully  say  that 
a  foundation  of  love  for  the  great  poet,  as  well  as 
a  familiarity  with  the  deeper  passages  of  Scripture, 
was  instilled  in  many  a  boy's  mind  on  that  par- 
ticular cruise.  Boylike,  we  delighted  especially  in 
the  war  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  in  the 
rich  romances  of  the  "Idylls  of  the  King;"  "The 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

Princess,"  "In  Memoriam,"  and  the  poetical  books 
of  the  Bible  and  the  Gospels  received  much  atten- 
tion as  well.  I  like  to  think  of  the  interest  ex- 
cited in  us  by  these,  I  grieve  to  say  it,  unfamiliar 
books.  It  is  a  good  thing  sometimes  to  have 
nothing  to  read  but  the  classics. 

One  day  we  were  leaving  Vineyard  Sound  for  a 
long  cruise.  The  storm  signals  were  flying  along 
the  coast,  however,  and  it  was  deemed  best  to  an- 
chor and  wait  for  a  change  in  the  weather.  While 
we  were  straining  lazily  at  the  cable,  a  shore  boat 
came  off  from  Martha's  Vineyard  loaded  with 
country  girls  and  their  escorts.  We  rigged  a 
whip  and  a  "bosun's  chair"  on  the  main  yard 
arm,  and  swung  the  shrieking  and  screaming  girls 
inboard;  the  men  climbed  up  the  Jacob's  ladder. 

All  that  afternoon  we  had  a  high  time.  One 
of  the  country  lads  had  brought  an  accordion,  and 
we  danced  on  the  half-deck;  the  captain  invited 
us  into  his  cabin,  and  we  offered  the  young  ladies 
refreshments  of  tea  and  hardtack.  They  were  the 
first  girls  we  had  seen  for  a  month,  and  when  they 
went  away  every  one  of  them  had  a  handful  of 
brass  buttons,  a  cap  ribbon  with  the  name  of  the 
ship,  two  -or  three  hardtacks  and  a  potato  for  a 
souvenir.  They  were  a  jolly,  merry  party. 

So,  with  mingled  play  and  work,  storm  and 
calm,  the  cruising  days  would  pass.  Presently 
we  would  drop  anchor  for  the  last  time  off  Annap- 
olis, and  then  came  the  final  year  for  study  and 
graduation.  After  that  some  went  into  the  naval 
service,  and  started  on  that  long,  slow  voyage 

114 


IN    SUNSHINE   AND    IN   FOG 

toward  an  admiral's  star.  And  some  resigned  and 
forsook  the  sea  for  civil  life  ashore.  But  we  all 
preserve  an  equal  love  and  respect  for  our  alma 
mater,  the  old  Academy.  The  memories  and  ex- 
periences of  the  four  years  I  spent  there,  the  things 
I  learned,  the  training  I  received,  are  among  the 
most  precious  things  of  my  life. 


PART   TWO 

OUT   WITH    THE    UNITED    STATES 
VOLUNTEERS 


OUT   WITH   THE   UNITED    STATES 
VOLUNTEERS 

CHAPTER  I 
Joining  the  Volunteers 

Sworn  In  at  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Station. — "Good-by,  Papa, 
Good-by !"— The  Terms  of  My  Going.— I  Join  the  Regi- 
ment.— Beware  of  Horse  Trading! — Clifford. — In  the 
Philippines.— A  Clerical  Banker. — Wanted  It  Back. — No 
Angels  Need  Apply. — A  Queer  Book  Agent. — The  Can- 
teen.—We  Abolish  It.— Boycotting  the  Church.— The 
Material  Argument. 

MY  reentrance  into  the  service  of  the  United 
States  took  place  in  the  waiting-room  of  the 
Baltimore  &  Ohio  Railroad  at  Philadelphia.  There 
I  took  the  oath  of  allegiance,  and  was  mustered 
into  the  service  of  my  country  for  the  second  time. 
My  father,  a  veteran  of  an  earlier  and  greater 
war,  stood  by  and  witnessed  the  ceremony.  There 
were  but  two  of  us  brothers,  and  both  wore  the 
army  blue — my  younger  brother  being  an  officer 
in  the  regular  army.  That  old  soldier  has  since 
gone  to  his  long  rest  after  having  faithfully  kept 
his  honorable  course,  but  I  see  the  old  man  now 
as  he  stood  at  the  train-step  choking  back  the 
tears  and  bidding  me  good-by  and  godspeed. 

119 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

Going  to  war  is  a  serious  business.  The  pos- 
sibilities are  so  many  that  the  actual  breaking 
away  is  a  hard  thing.  I  did  not  realize  it  until  I 
had  to  say  good-by  to  wife  and  children.  There 
are  scenes  and  shrines  in  the  human  heart  upon 
which  it  were  not  meet  to  dwell,  but  one  of  the 
things  I  remember  about  leaving  home  was  the 
baby,  aged  three.  I  lived  at  the  top  of  a  high 
hill  on  a  tree-embowered  street,  and  after  I  had 
left  all  the  rest  in  the  house,  the  little  maiden  ran 
out  on  the  sidewalk  after  me  and  stood  at  the  top 
of  the  hill  waving  her  little  hand  and  crying,  with 
the  sweet  voice  of  childhood,  "Good-by,  papa, 
good-by,  good-by !"  I  walked  with  my  head  turned 
backward,  looking  at  her  until  the  trees  shut  out 
the  vision;  and  the  breeze  of  spring-time  that 
rustled  the  leaves  of  the  waving  branches  above 
me  whispered,  again  and  again,  those  sweet  words 
to  speed  me  on  my  way  "Good-by,  papa,  good-by !" 

I  was  filling  the  exalted  station  of  Archdeacon 
of  Pennsylvania  at  the  time  of  my  departure,  and 
had  secured  a  leave  of  absence  from  the  Bishop — 
my  commander-in-chief — for  three  months  for  the 
purpose  of  accepting  the  commission  of  chaplain 
in  the  First  Pennsylvania  United  States  Volun- 
teers, which  had  been  tendered  me  without  solici- 
tation or  foreknowledge  on  my  part.  Two  months 
of  this  time  was  the  vacation  to  which  I  was  by 
custom  entitled.  At  the  end  of  three  months,  by 
the  terms  of  my  agreement  with  the  Bishop,  I  was 
to  come  back  and  resume  my  duties  as  archdeacon 
or  resign  the  position  if  I  chose  to  continue  in 

120 


JOINING  THE   VOLUNTEERS 

the  service.  Generous  friends  had  provided  me 
with  an  outfit  and  equipment  which  for  complete- 
ness and  serviceability  left  nothing  to  be  desired, 
and  I  had  in  my  pocket  a  substantial  check  from 
a  churchman  as  patriotic  as  he  was  generous,  with 
which  to  buy  myself  a  horse. 

The  regiment  was  in  camp  at  Chickamauga.  I 
first  saw  it  on  a  rainy,  muddy  night  about  ten 
o'clock,  having  reached  it  by  a  four-mile  drive  in 
an  army  wagon.  The  lieutenant-colonel  in  com- 
mand of  the  regiment — in  the  serious  and  unfor- 
tunate illness  of  the  colonel  on  account  of  an  acci- 
dent in  the  line  of  duty — who  had  been  on  duty 
connected  with  the  recruiting  of  the  regiment  in 
Philadelphia,  accompanied  me.  It  was  my  first 
introduction  to  him,  and  I  may  say  here  that  no 
better,  truer  man  ever  lived  than  this  officer,  after- 
ward appointed  colonel  of  the  regiment.  I  was 
with  him  in  all  sorts  of  trials  and  hardships  and 
harassments  short  of  actual  battle  against  the  foe. 
I  ever  found  him  a  brave,  loyal,  capable,  and  effi- 
cient officer  and  gentleman.  No  man  could  have 
done  more  than  he  to  facilitate  the  work  of  a 
chaplain. 

In  general,  the  same  could  be  said  of  all  the 
officers.  There  were  exceptions,  of  course.  Some 
there  were  who  did  not  look  with  kindly  eyes  upon 
my  ministrations,  but  I  discerned  good  qualities 
even  in  those  who  were  not  in — let  us  say  sym- 
pathy— with  me,  and  I  am  perfectly  sure  that  if 
they  had  been  tried  by  battle  and  campaign  they 
would  have  all  met  the  responsibilities  as  well  as 

121 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

did  the  members  of  other  commands  to  whom  op- 
portunity was  given  to  earn  an  immortal  name. 

I  arrived  on  Saturday,  had  service  on  Sunday, 
of  which  more  later,  and  on  Monday  proceeded  to 
buy  a  horse.  The  demand  for  horses  had  caused 
the  price  to  rise,  and  when  I  entered  the  field  as  a 
buyer  I  found  that  the  donor's  generous  check 
would  not  procure  a  suitable  charger.  The  colonel 
wrote  the  gentleman  and  a  supplementary  check 
arrived  with  delightful  promptness.  Being  a 
sailor  by  education  and  natural  predilection,  I 
knew  but  little  about  horses.  I  had  had  an  inti- 
mate Western  acquaintance  with  the  bronco — if 
it  be  not  an  insult  to  the  East  to  call  that  lusus 
nature  a  horse — but  no  particular  skill  or  knowl- 
edge was  needed  in  selecting  a  mount  of  that 
breed.  You  could  hardly  go  amiss  if  you  took 
whatever  was  offered,  for  they  were  all  bad,  and 
if  you  were  careful  to  avoid  a  "bucker"  there  was 
practically  nothing  to  choose  between  the  others, 
but  a  horse  for  a  campaign  was  different.  I  turned 
over  the  conduct  of  negotiations  to  an  old  trooper 
of  the  Seventh  United  States  Cavalry  who  had 
enlisted  with  us.  He  bought  the  horse. 

He  took  me  to  see  him  and  I  was  present  when 
the  purchase  was  consummated.  He  stood  by  the 
seller  and  calmly  pointed  out  defect  after  defect 
in  the  animal  which  the  other  man  repudiated 
vehemently,  at  the  same  time  calling  attention  to 
perfection  after  perfection  in  his  steed.  I  never 
saw  such  divergent  views  about  a  single  animal. 
Finally,  alarmed  at  the  zeal  of  my  advocate  I  re- 

122 


JOINING   THE   VOLUNTEERS 

marked  decisively  that  if  the  horse  had  all  the 
faults  he  said  it  had  I  didn't  want  him  at  any 
price,  whereupon  the  seller  with  alarming  prompt- 
ness came  down  in  his  figures  to  a  reasonable 
basis,  and  before  I  could  utter  a  protest  the  horse 
was  my  own.  As  I  had  unequivocally  committed 
the  negotiation  to  the  ex-trooper,  I  felt  that  I  was 
in  honor  bound  to  abide  by  his  decision.  We  led 
the  horse  away,  I  confess,  with  a  very  rueful,  dis- 
gusted feeling  on  my  part.  When  we  were  a  short 
distance  off  the  trooper  remarked,  chuckling  with 
glee: 

"That  was  a  fine  play  of  yours,  Chaplain,  I 
didn't  know  you  were  so  keen  in  a  horse  trade, 
sir.  That  just  settled  the  deal.  That  was  mighty 
cute,  I  tell  you!  You  had  the  fellow  scared,  a 
little  more  on  your  part  and  we'd  a  got  him  for 
nothin'!" 

"Keen?  Cute?"  I  exclaimed  in  surprise,  "I 
was  perfectly  honest  in  what  I  said.  I  didn't  want 
a  broken-down  old  hack,  such  as  you  described! 
Why  look  at  that,  and  that,  and  that!"  I  pointed 
to  various  blemishes  which  he  had  indicated  dur- 
ing the  trade.  He  stared  at  me  in  amazement  a 
moment  and  then  fairly  shouted  with  laughter, 
apologizing  the  while,  until  it  gradually  dawned 
upon  me  that  it  was  simply  a  case  of  balancing 
lies  and  assertions,  and  that  I  had  been  guilty  of 
aiding  and  abetting  the  deal,  and  that  he  had 
taken  an  honest  refusal  for  an  adroit  move!  I 
always  felt  that  I  got  that  horse  under  false  pre- 
tences, but  however  that  may  be,  he  was  undoubt- 

123 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

edly  the  best  horse  in  the  regiment.  Every  other 
officer  who  owned  a  horse,  I  admit,  was  ready  to 
make  the  same  claim,  but  I  knew  my  own  bore 
the  palm. 

He  was  a  chestnut  sorrel  and  a  beauty.  He  was 
three-quarter  bred,  of  Kentucky  stock,  about  nine 
years  old,  and  afraid  of  nothing  on  earth.  I  think 
he  must  have  been  a  race-horse  in  his  time,  for 
there  was  nothing  in  camp  that  could  catch  him. 
He  could  trot  faster  and  run  faster  and  keep  it 
up  longer  than  any  horse  I  ever  sat  upon.  He  had 
a  mouth  like  iron,  and  it  took  all  the  strength  of 
my  arm — and  sometimes  both  arms — to  hold  that 
animal  in  when  he  wanted  to  go.  Our  rides  were 
a  constant  struggle  as  to  whose  will  should  govern. 
I  liked  this  very  much,  and  it  was  an  unalloyed 
pleasure  to  me  to  make  him  go  my  way  and  at  my 
gait.  It  was  a  matter  of  the  greatest  difficulty  for 
me  to  keep  a  properly  respectful  distance  in  the 
rear  of  the  colonel  when  we  rode  together  or  when 
the  regimental  staff  would  be  returning  from  pa- 
rade.. I  called  him  Clifford,  after  the  donor,  and 
many  a  gallant  ride  we  had  together.  To  antici- 
pate a  little,  having  no  means  of  keeping  him, 
when  I  returned  home  and  was  mustered  out  I 
sold  him  to  a  United  States  cavalry  officer. 

I  was  in  the  Union  League  one  day  and  a 
friend  of  mine  met  me  with  this  query: 

"Hello,  Archdeacon!  When  did  you  return 
from  the  Philippines?" 

"I  have  never  been  there,"  I  answered. 

"Oh,  come!"  he  replied,  jokingly.  "You  can't 
124 


JOINING   THE    VOLUNTEERS 

tell  me  that,  you  know!  I  received  a  letter  from 
a  friend  of  mine  a  week  or  so  ago  from  Manila 
stating  that  Archdeacon  Brady  was  the  gamest 
thing  in  the  regiment,  that  he  was  always  in  the 
front  of  the  battle-line,  that  he  was  never  tired 
and  never  complained,  and  that  the  writer  and  the 
men  of  his  troop  positively  adored  him!"  I  was 
mystified,  of  course,  until  I  learned  that  it  was 
Clifford,  my  horse!  The  cavalry  officer  had  re- 
named him  for  me,  and  I  have  always  been  thank- 
ful to  the  gallant  animal  that  he  gave  me  so  good 
a  reputation.  I  wish  I  had  him  now. 

From  horses  to  money,  especially  the  saving  of 
it,  is  a  long  step,  for  they  are  usually  connected 
with  spending  it.  The  United  States  at  first  was 
very  slow  in  paying  the  troops.  I  think  our  reg- 
iment did  not  receive  any  pay  for  something  like 
two  months  and  a  half  after  it  was  mustered  in. 
The  paymaster  came  for  the  first  time  on  Sunday 
morning,  so  we  postponed  services  until  the  late 
afternoon.  I  think,  however,  that  I  never  put  in 
a  better  Sunday,  nor  did  the  Lord's  work  so  well 
as  on  that  day.  The  various  letters  I  had  received 
with  their  tales  of  want,  privation,  and  need  from 
those  at  home  dependent  upon  the  soldiers  in  the 
field,  had  greatly  moved  me,  and  I  determined  to 
get  as  much  money  from  the  men  as  I  could  induce 
them  to  give  me  for  the  purpose  of  sending  it 
home. 

As  each  company  marched  up  to  be  paid  I  made 
it  a  speech  and  announced  that  I  would  open  a 
bank  in  my  tent,  with  the  consent  of  the  colonel, 

125 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

and  that  I  would  there  receive  money  in  any  sum 
and  transmit  it  to  any  person  in  their  behalf.  I 
earnestly  appealed  to  the  men  by  the  love  they  bore 
those  dependent  upon  them,  to  embrace  the  oppor- 
tunity. They  did  it  with  remarkable  unanimity. 
I  am  writing  from  memory,  as  my  record  books 
were  unfortunately  destroyed,  but  I  think  on  two 
occasions  I  sent  home  over  one  thousand  checks, 
aggregating  more  than  $12,000.  Assisted  by  the 
junior  major  and  the  regimental  surgeon  we  kept 
the  bank  open  for  two  days,  and  there  was  a 
constant  stream  of  depositors  before  the  tent  at 
every  unoccupied  moment  during  that  period. 

The  men  trusted  me  implicitly  as,  of  course,  I 
could  give  no  receipts.  The  money  ad  interim 
was  kept  in  the  colonel's  tent  under  a  strong  guard. 
When  we  had  collected  everything  possible  from 
the  regiment  we  took  it  into  Chattanooga,  still 
under  guard,  and  deposited  it  in  the  bank,  and 
spent  the  day  writing  certified  checks,  which  were 
handed  to  the  soldiers  to  mail,  or  which,  in  many 
instances,  I  mailed  myself.  There  was  not  a  single 
mistake  made  in  the  whole  transaction,  carried  on 
in  the  hurry  and  bustle  of  the  camp,  with  many 
other  duties  to  attend  to,  and  many  women  and 
children,  I  am  sure,  appreciated  the  efforts  that 
had  been  made  by  the  major,  the  surgeon,  and 
the  other  officers  who  had  worked  so  hard  to  bring 
about  the  result. 

The  funny  part  of  the  whole  affair,  however, 
came  out  later.  I  cannot  remember  how  many 
men  came  to  my  tent  after  the  certified  checks 

126 


JOINING   THE   VOLUNTEERS 

had  been  handed  to  them  and  wanted  to  get  their 
money  back  for  other  purposes,  or  at  least  to  re- 
ceive a  portion  of  it,  but  I  was  absolutely  adaman- 
tine in  my  refusal.  Once  the  money  got  into  my 
hands  it  never  got  out  until  it  reached  the  recip- 
ient. They  didn't  like  it  at  first,  but  I  think  they 
realized  the  justice  of  the  position  of  the  bank  at 
last,  and  on  the  second  occasion  of  my  asking  for 
their  money,  I  stated  to  them  unequivocally  what 
they  all  knew,  that  they  must  consider  the  matter 
carefully  before  they  gave  me  the  money,  as  they 
would  never  see  it  again  after  that.  I  have  been 
sailor,  soldier,  author  in  a  small  way,  railroad 
official,  book  agent,  surveyor,  cowboy,  and  general 
rustler,  but  I  never  before  was  a  banker.  All  the 
expenses,  including  the  revenue  stamps,  etc.,  were 
provided,  so  that  the  transaction  cost  the  men 
nothing. 

Apropos  of  my  varied  vocations  once  upon  a 
time  when  I  was  very  much  younger,  and  the  min- 
istry was  not  even  a  dream  with  me,  I  fell  out  of  a 
position  on  account  of  illness.  I  landed  in  Balti- 
more penniless,  or  nearly  so,  and  lived  on  one  meal 
a  day  while  I  hunted  for  work.  There  was  noth- 
ing doing,  for  me  at  least,  and  at  last  in  utter 

despair,  I  offered  my  services  to  Governor  B , 

who  happened  to  be  president  of  a  street  railway 
company,  to  drive  a  street-car.  He  asked  me  what 
my  qualifications  were,  and  when  I  replied  that  I 
neither  drank,  chewed,  smoked,  nor  swore  (I  had 
quit  everything),  he  said  he  hardly  thought  I'd 
be  able  to  manage  the  mules,  and  he  did  not  want 

127 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

any  angels  in  his  employ,  anyway !  It  was  quaintly 
humorous,  or  rather  it  is  now.  I  was  hungry  then. 

I  was  so  low  in  finances  and  spirits  that  I  turned 
book  agent,  and  tried  to  sell  a  plush  album — a 
hideous  thing,  by  the  way.  I  received  lots  of 
insults  and  only  sold  one  book  to  a  poor  woman. 
After  I  left  her  my  conscience  smote  me  so  that 
I  went  back  and  cancelled  the  order.  I  told  her 
the  album  was  worthless,  and  she  said  I  was  a 
funny  book  agent.  I  guess  I  was.  But  I  have 
had  a  soft  spot  for  book  agents  ever  since.  They 
generally  find  me  an  easy  mark.  J'y  etais. 

But  I  have  wandered.  I  meant  to  say  that  I 
have  learned  to  appreciate  the  governor's  rude 
remarks,  though  I  maintain,  out  of  a  more  com- 
plete knowledge  of  myself  than  he  could  possi- 
bly possess,  that  he  was  not  justified  in  ascribing 
angelic  qualities  to  me.  The  next  and  last  time 
I  ever  saw  him,  by  the  way,  was  in  a  Pullman  car. 
I  was  travelling  on  a  pass!  He  stared  hard  at  me, 
and  I  have  often  wondered  if  he  recognized  his 
"angelic"  visitor.  But  to  return  to  the  camp. 

One  of  the  reasons  why  the  men  wanted  their 
own  money  was  on  account  of  the  canteen.  I  am 
not  a  prohibitionist,  either  in  theory  or  practice, 
and  I  recognized  from  a  knowledge  by  no  means 
cursory  of  conditions  prevalent  in  the  regular  army, 
that  there  is  room  for  two  opinions  as  to  the 
value  of  a  well-regulated  canteen  in  an  army  post 
near  a  large  city.  My  own  opinion  is  that  it  is 
a  good  thing,  and,  properly  administered,  is  a 
temperance  promoter  and  prevents  terrible  evils 

128 


JOINING   THE   VOLUNTEERS 

which  are  inevitable  without  it,  but  I  am  even 
more  thoroughly  convinced  by  observation  and 
experience,  not  only  in  my  own  regiment,  but  in 
many  others  of  which  I  have  knowledge,  that  the 
canteen  for  a  regiment  of  volunteers  in  the  field 
is  an  abomination. 

One  had  been  established  in  our  regiment  in 
common  with  nearly  every  other  regiment  in  the 
field,  and  everything  that  supervision  and  regula- 
tion could  do  to  control  it  had  been  done,  but  the 
results  were  most  unsatisfactory.  It  could  not  be 
kept  clean.  The  melting  ice,  water,  and  dregs  of 
the  liquor  were  thrown  on  the  ground,  of  course, 
and  the  crowd  of  people  trampling  in  the  tent 
made  such  a  mud-hole  of  it  that  it  had  to  be 
moved  every  other  day  or  so.  There  was  no  place 
to  move  it  without  bringing  it  into  objectionable 
proximity  to  the  quarters  of  the  hospital  or  the 
commissary  department,  or  something  else  respect- 
able, so  finally  it  was  shoved  over  by  the  mule 
corral,  where  it  belonged. 

Nothing  was  sold  but  beer  and  soft  drinks,  and 
these  only  at  certain  periods  during  the  day  for 
a  short  time.  During  these  periods,  however,  the 
place  would  be  jammed.  Several  free  fights  oc- 
curred with  beer-glasses  and  fists  for  weapons,  and 
the  doctor  complained  of  it,  and  I  finally  brought 
it  up  before  the  council  of  officers  which  the  colo- 
nel had  called  to  consider  the  subject.  They  voted 
to  abolish  it,  and  thenceforward  we  were  relieved 
of  this  fester. 

Many  of  the  men,  however,  were  intensely  indig- 
129 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

nant,  and  they  took  it  out  on  me  by  endeavoring 
to  boycott  the  church  services.  That  was  the  first 
time  I  had  ever  been  boycotted,  by  the  way.  I 
felt  sorry  for  the  men.  They  had  but  little  water 
• — and  that  not  very  healthful  or  palatable — we 
finally  hauled'  it  in  barrels  from  a  spring  five  miles 
away  every  day.  Sometimes  the  ice  would  give 
out,  and  the  water  was  warm.  It  was  perfectly 
natural  that  they  would  go  to  the  canteen  and 
get  a  bottle  of  ginger  ale,  or  apollinaris,  but  some 
of  these  things  were  expensive,  and  beer  was  cheap. 
Young  boys  who  would  never  have  thought  of 
it  at  home  began  to  drink  beer,  first  moderately, 
then  to  excess,  and  then  they  tried  to  smuggle 
whiskey,  and  so  on — it  is  an  old  story. 

The  moral  tone  of  the  regiment  increased  a 
hundred  per  cent,  when  the  officers  took  that  brave 
stand,  and  the  boycott  against  the  church  gradually 
died  out. 

The  unpopularity  of  the  measure  was  visited 
upon  the  officers  as  well  as  upon  me,  and  it  was 
especially  hard  to  give  up  the  canteen  in  some 
minds  because  all  the  profits  of  the  traffic,  and 
they  were  large,  were  divided  among  the  several 
companies  to  purchase  necessary  luxuries  to  sup- 
plement the  not  particularly  inviting  regulation 
fare.  I  consider  that  the  young  men  of  the  regi- 
ment who  abolished  the  canteen,  against  the  pres- 
jsure  which  was  brought  to  bear  upon  them, 
exhibited  high  courage  and  earned  a  great  moral 
victory. 


130 


CHAPTER   II 
Veterans   and    "Rookies" 

His  Own  Four-in-Hand.— The  Mule  that  Went  Wrong.— The 
Silk  Buyer  in  the  Ranks.— Is  He  a  Man?— A  Bad  Boy.— 
A  Piteous  Appeal.— Not  There.— The  Lunatic.— An  Ex- 
change of  Courtesies. — Chaplain,  not  an  Officer. — Letters. 
—A  Puzzle.— M and  His  Baby. 

HERE  is  a  word  or  two  about  the  men.  Those 
who  were  accepted  for  the  United  States 
service  from  the  old  regiment  of  the  National 
Guard  by  the  medical  officers  were  men  of  a  very 
high  class,  both  as  to  character  and  station. 

One  morning  I  was  driven  into  Chattanooga 
from  the  camp  by  one  of  the  men  detailed  as 
teamster.  The  team  consisted  of  four  splendid 
mules  and  a  Milburn  wagon.  The  road  to  Lytle, 
the  railroad  station,  was  fetlock  deep  with  dust, 
and  the  soldier  suggested  that  we  turn  out  from  it 
and  make  our  way  through  the  trees. 

"Do  you  think  you  can  drive  those  four  mules 
and  this  big  wagon  through  the  trees?"  I  asked. 

"I  guess  so,  sir,"  he  replied,  smiling,  and  away 
we  went.  The  trees  were  short  and  stumpy  and 
stood  rather  thickly  together.  He  tooled  the  wagon 
out  and  in  through  the  grove  and  never  barked 
a  tree.  It  was  a  wonderful  exhibition  of  skill  and 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

address,  and  after  admiring  his  expertness  for 
some  time,  I  asked  him  where  he  learned  to  drive. 

"At  home,  sir." 

"And  what  did  you  drive  there?" 

"A  four-in-hand." 

"Were  you  a  coachman?" 

"No,  sir.    It  was  my  own." 

I  nearly  fell  off  the  wagon-seat. 

Speaking  of  mules  reminds  me  of  another  four- 
mule  team.  There  was  great  rivalry  between  the 
different  teamsters  as  to  who  had  the  best  team. 
In  process  of  time,  however,  the  possession  of  the 

ribbon  was  awarded  to  S .  He  was  a  man  of  a 

very  different  stamp  from  my  four-in-hand  driver. 
He  had  drifted  into  the  regiment  from  the  West, 
and  what  he  didn't  know  about  mules  wasn't  worth 
knowing.  That,  however,  appeared  to  be  the  limit 
of  his  intellectual  acquirements. 

I  was  riding  with  him  for  water  one  day.  We 
had  to  go  five  miles  through  a  wood  to  a  spring 
for  decent  drinking-water  at  that  time.  To  while 

away  the  time,  S fell  to  discoursing  on  his 

mules. 

"See  them  mules,  Chaplain?"  he  said.  "That's 
the  best  team  in  the  regiment.  By  gosh,  I  believe 
they're  the  best  team  in  the  brigade,  an'  even  in 
the  hull  army!  I  ain't  seen  no  mules  nowheres 
to  beat  'em!  That  is,  they  hev  bin  the  best  up  to 
lately,  but  I  begin  to  b'lieve  they're  gittin'  a  little 
demorylized.  You  see  I  didn't  hev  no  names  for 
'em,  I  jist  called  'em  'Hi  there,  mule!'  and  teched 
up  the  one  I  wanted  to  pay  perticular  'tention 

132 


VETERANS   AND    "ROOKIES" 

with  the  whip  yere,  but  last  week  I  seen  all  the 
fellers  was  namin'  their  mules  'Jim9  or  Tete'  or 
'Rosebud/  an'  all  that  sort  of  thing,  an'  I  thought 
I'd  name  mine  somethin',  so  I  did." 

"What  did  you  name  them,  S — — ?"  I  asked, 
with  interest. 

"This  yere  one  I  called  Gunnel,  an'  his  mate 
yere  I  named  Maj,  an'  that  off  leader  yonder  I 
called  Doc,  an'  the  nigh  leader  I — I" — he  hesitated, 
and  looked  uncertainly  at  me. 

"Go  on,"  I  said.  "What  did  you  call  the  nigh 
leader?" 

"Well,  sir,  I  called  him  Chaplain,  an'  ever  sence 
I  named  him  he's  been  the — the — derndest,  orner- 
iest  mule  in  the  camp !  Seems  like  he's  plum'  clean 
loco'd.  Been  raisin' — look  at  him  now!"  he  cried 
disgustedly,  as  "Chaplain"  stopped  and  lashed  out 
viciously  with  his  heels.  "Look  at  the  rest  of 
'em,  too!"  He  hit  the  recalcitrant  clerical  mule  a 
wicked  clip  with  the  long  whip  and  went  on. 

"It's  jist  as  I  told  you,  he's  c'rupted  the  hull 
team!  I  don't  know  wot  to  do  about  it!" 

"Suppose  you  re-name  him  'Sergeant' !"  I  said. 
'  'Chaplain'  is  a  pretty  heavy  name  for  a  mule  to 
stagger  under." 

"I'll  do  it!"  he  exclaimed,  delightedly,  "an' 
p'raps  he'll  reform!" 

But  to  come  back  to  the  men.  One  of  the  old 
men  of  the  regiment  got  his  discharge  one  day 
and  came  up  to  my  tent  to  bid  me  good-by.  His 
manners  and  address  were  perfect. 

"I  have  enjoyed  meeting  you  very  much,"  he 
133 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND   TENTS 

said,  as  he  shook  my  hand,  "and  I  want  you  to 
promise  me  that  when  you  return  to  Philadelphia 
you  will  look  me  up." 

"I  will  surely,"  I  replied.  "What  is  your  ad- 
dress?" 

"The  Rittenhouse,"  he  answered,  giving  the 
name  of  one  of  the  most  fashionable  and  exclusive 
hotels  in  the  city. 

"Gracious  goodness!"  I  exclaimed.  "What  was 
your  business  before  you  became  a  private  in  the 
volunteers  ?" 

"I  was  an  importer  of  silks,"  he  answered, 
smiling  at  my  discomfiture. 

We  had  all  sorts  of  men  in  the  ranks.  The  son 
of  the  most  distinguished  Presbyterian  clergyman 
in  the  city;  men  who  belonged  to  exclusive  and 
high-class  clubs;  young  college  graduates,  who 
could  quote  poetry  and  talk  Greek  certainly  better 
than  I  could;  fledgling  doctors;  men  who  could 
write  their  checks  for  the  pay-roll  of  the  regi- 
ment; sons  of  men  whose  financial  position  was 
of  the  very  highest. 

They  were  not  all  like  that,  however,  even  in 
the  old  regiment;  the  greater  proportion  were 
plain  and  substantial  young  fellows  of  a  highly 
desirable  class.  There  were  no  distinctions  in 
the  regiment;  so  far  as  I  could  see  the  men 
mingled  on  terms  of  the  most  democratic  equal- 
ity. The  only  question  that  ever  arose  as  to  the 
status  of  an  individual  was,  "Is  he  a  man,  and 
not  a  skulker,  a  shirker,  or  a  coward?" 

The  first  batch  of  men,  however,  recruited  to 
134 


VETERANS  AND  "ROOKIES" 

complete  the  regulation  number  were  not  nearly 
so  good.  Recruiting  was  going  on  in  a  hurry, 
and  though  care  was  exercised  and  many  worth- 
less men  thrown  out,  some  that  were  not  so  good 
crept  in,  and  the  standard  was  appreciably  low- 
ered. One  lad  was  the  son  of  a  widow  who 
doted  on  him — 'tis  a  habit  of  mothers  and  not 
confined  to  widows,  by  the  way — and  she  used 
to  write  long  letters  to  the  captain  of  his  com- 
pany, to  the  colonel  and  to  myself,  beseeching  us 
to  look  after  her  boy.  We  looked  after  him  all 
right,  but  John — I  call  him  that  because  that  was 
not  his  name — was  the  slipperiest  customer  in  the 
regiment.  He  drank  when  he  could  get  anything 
to  drink,  gambled  away  everything  he  had,  passed 
most  of  his  time  in  the  guard-tent,  and  whenever 
he  was  released  made  a  bee-line  for  the  city. 

The  last  time  he  went  off  he  was  not  appre- 
hended by  the  Provost  Guard  with  the  customary 
promptness,  and  he  did  not  turn  up  at  the  end  of 
two  or  three  days  blind  drunk  as  was  his  wont. 
A  letter  from  his  mother  gave  us  a  clew  as  to  his 
whereabouts.  The  poor  old  woman  wrote  thank- 
ing the  colonel  for  his  kindness  to  John.  She 
remarked  artlessly  that  John  had  written  her  to 
send  him  some  money  to  a  certain  address  which 
he  gave,  and  had  said  that  he  was  having  a  nice 
time  on  a  vacation  in  Chattanooga,  and  she 
thanked  the  colonel  for  his  kindness  in  giving 
"her  poor,  hard-worked  little  boy  such  a  nice 
vacation,"  and  enclosed  two  dollars,  which  she 
begged  him  to  take  out  and  give  to  John! 

135 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

The  two  dollars  were  duly  taken  out  by  the 
sergeant  and  a  file  of  men,  but  the  graceless  John 
had  no  opportunity  to  spend  them,  for  he  was 
promptly  apprehended  and  summarily  brought  back 
to  camp  just  in  time  to  escape  that  charge  for 
desertion  from  which  his  mother  had  unwittingly 
saved  him. 

We  made  earnest  efforts  to  reform  him,  but  with 
futile  results,  for  he  finally  broke  away  from  the 
guard-tent,  absented  himself  for  over  ten  days 
before  he  was  caught,  and  was  tried,  court-mar- 
tialed, and  sent  to  serve  a  year's  sentence  for 
desertion  at  St.  Augustine.  He  braced  up  some- 
what there,  and  I  remember  one  letter  he  wrote 
to  the  colonel  during  his  captivity.  It  ran  some- 
thing like  this: 

"DEAR  COLONEL: 

"Wich  I'm  tryin*  to  behave  myself  in  this  yere 
prison.  I  don't  git  no  likker  an*  I  don't  git  no  chanst 
to  git  away  there  fur  I'm  all  rite,  but  Colonel,  my 
pants  is  clean  wore  out  in  the  seat  an'  as  there  is  lots 
of  ladies  comes  to  the  prison  to  see  us  I  wish  to 
Heaven  you  would  please  send  me  another  pare." 

The  "pants"  were  duly  sent.  When  the  regi- 
ment came  home  later  on,  the  poor  old  mother  of 
John,  whom  we  had  carefully  kept  in  ignorance 
of  his  waywardness,  was  on  the  platform  to  see 
us  come  in.  Alas!  There  was  no  John  there  to 
greet  her  and  I  had  a  bad  quarter  of  an  hour  with 
the  broken-hearted  old  woman,  whose  feelings 
were  well  indicated  by  a  sentence  in  one  of  her 

136 


VETERANS  AND  "ROOKIES" 

letters,  "I  can't  get  no  comfort  nowhere  without 
that  boy."  Some  of  us  worked  hard  for  him,  and 
when  the  regiment  was  mustered  out  John  was 
released  from  captivity  and  sent  home  to  his 
mother.  Let  us  hope  his  experience  was  bene- 
ficial to  him. 

In  the  last  batch  of  "rookies"  (recruits)  that  we 
received — by  far  the  worst  of  the  lot,  which  is  not 
saying  that  there  were  no  good  men  in  it,  of  course, 
for  there  were — there  was  a  lunatic.  Perhaps  that 
is  a  strong  statement,  but  the  man  was  certainly 
abnormal  and  not  in  the  possession  of  his  facul- 
ties. How  he  got  past  the  examining  officers 
nobody  ever  knew,  and  the  first  evidence  of  his 
mental  vagaries  occurred  on  one  Sunday  morning 
inspection.  The  camp  was  rigorously  inspected 
every  Sunday  morning  before  church  call,  the 
men,  the  kits,  the  tents,  everything.  When  the 
inspecting  party  passed  the  lunatic  he  stepped  out 
of  the  line  before  he  could  be  prevented,  and 
bowing  gracefully  handed  the  astonished  colonel 
a  wild  rose!  It  was  Sunday  and  the  influence  of 
the  day  was  upon  him,  so  the  colonel  was  milder 
in  his  remarks  than  might  have  been  expected. 

A  queer  figure  the  lunatic  presented.  He  was 
an  Armenian  to  begin  with,  and  like  every  other 
recruit  he  had  no  uniform — for  they  had  not  yet 
been  issued — and  was  clad  in  the  dirtiest  and 
raggedest  of  apparel.  He  had  a  campaign  hat 
on,  however,  and  a  live  chicken  under  his  arm. 
We  thought  he  intended  to  follow  the  gift  of  the 
rose  with  the  chicken,  but  the  colonel's  peremp- 

137 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

tory  manner  caused  the  man  to  drop  the  chicken 
precipitately  and  get  back  into  the  ranks. 

We  did  not  know  what  on  earth  to  do  with  him 
for  a  time  until  he,  too,  deserted,  and  we  heard 
afterward  that  he  had  committed  a  felony  and  had 
been  imprisoned  for  it.  He  professed  to  be  an 
Armenian  Christian,  and  I  had  a  number  of  talks 
with  him  and  tried  in  vain  to  do  something  with 
him  and  for  him.  Deliver  me  from  Armenian 
Christians  if  he  was  a  representative  of  them! 

The  old  men  knew  their  duties  perfectly  and 
performed  them  well ;  the  new  ones,  of  course,  had 
to  be  taught.  Right  next  to  our  camp  was  the 
head-quarters  of  our  division,  which  was  com- 
manded by  General  Poland.  The  officers  of  his 
staff  were  of  the  regular  army  and  a  very  pleasant, 
helpful  lot  they  were,  from  the  old  general,  who 
died  later  on  from  the  prevalent  camp  fever,  down 
to  the  junior  aide.  One  of  the  officers  was  ap- 
proaching our  lines  late  at  night.  He  was  halted 
by  the  sentry — one  of  the  greenest  of  the  green — 
in  the  usual  way,  "Halt!  Who  goes  there?"  fol- 
lowed by  this  admonition,  "Don't  you  come  any 
nearer  until  you  answer!" 

"A  friend,"  replied  the  officer,  according  to 
regulation. 

"Corporal  of  the  guard,"  called  the  sentry, 
promptly,  "I've  got  a  friend  out  here  that  wants 
to  come  into  the  lines." 

"Bring  your  friend  over  here,"  cried  the  cor- 
poral in  much  amusement,  never  dreaming  until 

138 


VETERANS   AND    "ROOKIES" 

his  eyes   fell  upon  the   indignant  officer  that  he 
belonged  to  the  regular  army. 

I  passed  the  lines  one  day  and  the  sentry  failed 
to  salute.  The  senior  major,  who  was  following 
after,  berated  him  for  omitting  this  token  of  re- 
spect to  an  officer. 

"Ain't  that  the  chaplain,  sir?"  asked  the  soldier. 

"It  is,"  said  the  major. 

"Well,  sir,  it's  the  first  time  I  ever  knowed  a 
preacher  was  an  officer,"  remarked  the  sentry. 

We  used  to  get  stacks  and  stacks  of  letters  from 
home  folks,  wanting  to  know  about  their  boys. 
Generally  it  was  a  mother  who  was  interested  in 
her  son,  sometimes  a  wife  who  wanted  to  know 
why  her  husband  had  not  written  to  her,  and  not 
infrequently  an  anxious  sweetheart  poured  forth 
her  soul  upon  the  defection  of  some  recreant  lover. 
I  had  all  the  letters  of  the  mothers  and  wives  and 
grandmothers  to  attend  to — and  the  bills  also — 
but  the  colonel  concluded  that  he  would  look  after 
the  recalcitrant  sweethearts  himself;  and  it  was 
not  until  I  remarked  that  it  would  be  a  good  thing 
to  tell  the  people  at  home  that  he  had  palmed  off 
the  duns  and  the  letters  of  the  old  folks  on  me, 
and  looked  after  the  other  letters  himself,  that 
he  added  the  hunt  for  missing  sweethearts  to  my 
duties  as  well.  It  was  certainly  very  funny  to  get 
some  big  six-foot  soldier  and  berate  him  for  not 
writing  to  his  "girl."  The  excuses  were  many 
and  various,  and  I  greatly  enjoyed  them.  I  do 
not  think  there  was  a  single  instance  in  which  the 
delinquent  did  not  finally  do  his  duty. 

139 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

Sometimes  there  was  a  sad  side  to  the  letters 
of  sweethearts.  I  remember  one  of  the  men  died, 
and  I  received  letters  shortly  afterward  from  two 
different  girls  in  two  different  cities,  both  of  whom 
wished  me  to  return  to  them  the  testaments,  house- 
wives, letters,  and  pictures  they  had  given  him.  It 
was  an  easy  task  to  see  which  testament  came  from 
each  girl,  but  there  were  no  clews  in  the  house- 
wives, and  I  could  not  for  the  life  of  me  tell  which 
photograph  was  Mary's  and  which  was  Jennie's. 
Neither  could  I  definitely  distinguish  between  the 
letters,  so  in  the  end  each  poor  girl  got  her  testa- 
ment and  nothing  more. 

One  letter  concerned  a  young  foreigner,  a  very 
good  soldier,  too  slow  and  too  stolid,  perhaps  to 
get  into  mischief.  He  was  a  very  stupid  Dutch- 
man, with  a  stubbornness  as  great  as  his  stupidity. 

The  letter  went  on  to  state  that  Mrs.  M ,  his 

wife,  and  her  baby,  were  in  dire  need;  that  he  had 
not  written  to  her  or  sent  her  anything  since  he 
entered  the  service,  and  for  months  before.  I  in- 
terviewed him  that  night. 

"Why  don't  you  write  to  your  wife?"  I  asked 
him,  receiving  no  reply  but  a  vacant  stare.  "Don't 
you  know  that  she  and  her  baby  are  in  dire  need?" 

"Himmel!"  he  exclaimed,  opening  his  round 
eyes.  "Ish  dere  a  baby?" 

"Why,  of  course,"  I  said.  "Don't  you  know  you 
have  a  baby?  Don't  you  know  you  are  a  father?" 

"Veil,"  he  replied,  scratching  his  head,  "I  know 
it  now,  but  I  didn't  know  it  pefore." 

"Good  gracious,  man !"  I  cried,  "you  don't  mean 
140 


VETERANS   AND    "ROOKIES" 

to  tell  me  you  left  your  wife  ill  and  have  never 
written  to  her?" 

"Dot  ish  so,"  he  said,  solemnly. 

"Why  did  you  do  it?" 

"Veil,  sir,  ve  quarrelled;  she  fights  mit  me,  and 
tells  me  to  go  to  der  teufel,  and  I  comes  myself 
here." 

Passing  over  the  disrespectful  allusion  to  the 
regiment,  I  continued: 

"Well,  aren't  you  sorry  for  the  quarrel?  Don't 
you  care  anything  for  your  wife  or  the  baby?" 

"Yah,  I  gares  for  'em  both." 

"Why  don't  you  write  to  her,  then?  It's  a 
shame !" 

"I  was  dinkin'  about  it.  I  vas  goin'  to  write 
after  awhile." 

"Sit  down  there  at  that  table  and  write  now!" 
I  commanded.  "And  let  me  see  you  write  a  nice 
letter;  and  here's  some  money  which  you  can 
send  to  her,  and  you  can  pay  me  when  you  get 
your  pay." 

He  took  off  his  hat  and  sat  down  at  the  table, 
and  with  infinite  toil  and  much  prompting  from 
me,  and  many  questions,  he  managed  to  indite  a 
reasonably  satisfactory  epistle.  When  he  finished, 
and  I  sealed  and  directed  the  letter,  he  pointed 
to  the  letter  I  had  received,  and  queried,  slowly: 

"Dot  paby?    Vas  he— he  a  leetle  boy?" 

"He  was,  he  is,"  I  replied,  after  glancing  over 
the  letter  again. 

"Veil,  I  calls  him  Hans,  I  dinks,"  he  said,  sa- 
luting and  turning  solemnly  away. 

141 


CHAPTER    III 
In  the  Hospitals  at-  Chickamauga 

A  Reeking  Camp.— The  Old  Battle-field.— Filled  with  Dis- 
ease.— Not  Our  Fault. — Scarcity  of  Water. — The  Horrors 
of  the  Hospital. — Over-worked,  Over-crowded. — Dying  in 
the  Rain. — Our  Private  Hospital. — Hospital  Trains. — In- 
efficiency and  Incompetency. — A  Sad  Scene  at  Home. — 
Calm  Indeed.— "Thy  need  is  greater  than  Mine."— The 
Bugle  Call.— In  the  Death  Tent.— Bathing  His  Head.— No 
Beer  for  the  Convalescents. 

TT 7HEN  the  regiment  first  reached  Chickamauga 
»  V  the  men  were  in  good  health  and  in  good 
spirits.  The  famous  old  battle-field  was  admirably 
adapted  for  a  camping  ground,  and  by  the  ex- 
penditure of  a  little  money,  and  the  use  of  a  little 
of  the  gray  matter  in  the  heads  of  the  powers  that 
be,  it  might  have  been  made  as  healthy  a  camp 
as  any  in  the  world.  Instead  of  which  I  believe 
it  to  have  become  as  unhealthy  a  spot  as  any  mod- 
ern camp  which  was  supposed  to  be  administered 
under  scientific  regimen  and  with  due  regard  to 
modern  sanitation,  ever  could  be. 

The  battle-field  consists  of  thickly  wooded  plots 
of  ground  interspersed  with  open  clearings  in  about 
equal  proportions.  It  is  watered  by  a  number  of 
springs,  one  large  creek  and  several  smaller  ones. 
Drive-wells  were  also  located  at  different  points. 
To  take  our  own  experience  as  a  criterion,  the 

142 


IN  THE  HOSPITALS  AT  CHICKAMAUGA 

regimental  camp  was  placed  by  the  explicit  direc- 
tion of  the  highest  authorities  in  a  grove  of  trees 
on  the  side  of  a  gentle  hill  which  sloped  down  to 
an  insignificant  little  brook. 

Directly  opposite  was  an  open  field  on  higher 
ground,  most  admirably  adapted  for  camping  pur- 
poses, but  we  were  forced  to  go  under  the  trees. 
The  limits  of  the  little  grove  were  the  limits  of 
our  camp.  We  were  compacted  together  in  the 
closest  way,  and  the  prescribed  distances  between 
tents  and  companies  could  not  be  observed.  Es- 
pecially was  this  so  with  regard  to  the  men;  and 
the  mule  corral,  the  canteen,  and  the  hospital  lay 
side  by  side. 

Beneath  the  camp  was  a  substratum  of  hard 
rock  covered  with  a  slight  depth  of  soil.  It  was 
impossible  to  dig  sinks  to  any  depth,  and  the 
ground  soon  reeked  with  disease.  I  personally 
know  that  requisition  after  requisition  was  made 
for  lime,  the  simplest  and  least  expensive  of  dis- 
infectants, again  and  again  and  without  results. 
Upon  the  advice  of  our  surgeons  it  was  urged  by 
the  colonel,  that  we  be  permitted  to  take  the  camp 
out  on  the  open  field  where  there  was  room  and 
sunlight,  but  no,  the  field  was  wanted  for  a  drill- 
and  parade-ground,  and  it  was  not  until  the  dam- 
age had  been  done  that  the  permission  was 
granted,  then  it  was  too  late.  The  soldiers  in 
command  at  Chickamauga  had  forgotten,  if  they 
ever  learned  it,  that  for  a  prolonged  sojourn  sun- 
shine is  better  than  shade  for  a  camp. 

The    regimental    camp    was    well    policed,    and 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

everything  that  men  could  do  to  struggle  against 
the  initial  disability  of  location,  and  negative  it, 
was  done  by  the  officers  in  charge.  It  was  my 
habit  to  ride  with  the  colonel  on  his  daily  inspec- 
tion, and  no  man  can  speak  with  more  authority 
on  the  subject  than  I,  therefore.  I  remember  that 
after  we  had  succeeded  in  getting  permission  to 
break  camp  and  pitch  our  tents  on  the  sunny  hill, 
the  stench  which  arose  from  the  ground  of  our 
old  camp  for  days  after  we  had  abandoned  it,  was 
most  unpleasantly  perceptible. 

The  water,  of  course,  even  including  that  of 
the  drive-wells,  soon  became  polluted.  We  had 
it  analyzed  and  found  it  dangerous  to  health,  so 
after  scouring  the  country  for  miles  around  we 
discovered  a  spring,  a  long  distance  away  (five 
miles,  I  think),  and  every  day  the  wagons  hauled 
water  in  barrels  for  drinking  and  cooking  pur- 
poses from  that  spring.  The  quality  of  the  water 
so  obtained  was  good,  but  the  quantity  was  meagre 
and  inadequate. 

It  was  certainly  a  hardship  for  men  of  cleanly 
habits  to  be  compelled  to  take  a  bath  in  a  pint  of 
water,  especially  after  a  hard  march  over  the  dusty 
roads,  or  a  long  drill  in  the  blinding  sun.  But 
there  was  no  help  for  it.  It  was  not  until  our 
division  was  moved  to  Knoxville,  Tenn.,  that  we 
had  an  abundance  of  water  from  pipes  laid  down 
through  the  camp,  and  what  a  luxury  it  was! 

To  put  it  briefly,  here  was  an  aggregation  of 
about  sixty  thousand  men  and  thousands  of  horses 
and  mules  herded  together  in  a  confined  area  with 

144 


IN  THE  HOSPITALS  AT  CHICKAMAUGA 

only  natural  water  and  surface  drainage.  No 
wonder  that  the  hospital  tents  soon  became  the 
busiest  places  and  the  most  crowded  corners  of  the 
camp.  We  had  three  surgeons  in  our  regiment: 
two  of  them  were  soon  detached  on  special  duties 
— one  of  these  two  died  of  typhoid  fever  while  on 
duty  in  Porto  Rico—leaving  the  third  to  stagger 
along  under  a  burden  of  labor  and  responsibility 
which  was  entirely  too  great  for  the  strength  of 
any  one  man. 

We  were  required  to  send  the  ill  men  to  the 
division  hospital.  That  hospital  was  also  inade- 
quately provided  with  physicians.  The  nurses  were 
men  drafted,  nay,  extracted  by  peremptory  orders, 
from  the  several  regiments — about  one-half  the 
complement  of  our  regiment  would  be  on  some 
special  detail  duty  every  other  day,  which  was  an- 
noying and  exasperating  in  the  extreme.  The 
colonels  sent  men  who  had  no  fitness  whatever  for 
the  work  of  nursing  the  sick.  Some  of  them  took 
that  opportunity  of  getting  rid  of  objectionable 
soldiers ! 

I  remember  one  case  where  a  ward  of  sixty 
patients  was  left  during  the  night  in  charge  of 
two  men,  one  of  whom  had  been  a  day  laborer 
and  the  other,  for  a  short  time,  a  keeper  in  a 
lunatic  asylum!  They  were  without  any  expe- 
rience whatever.  One  of  the  patients  in  that  ward 
died  during  the  night  and  another  typhoid  sufferer 
lay,  unattended,  in  his  own  discharge,  until  the 
doctor  came  in  the  morning.  He,  too,  died. 

There  were  a  few  hospital  stewards  and  men 
145 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

who  had  some  medical  training,  but  they  were 
worked  to  death.  Of  the  dozen  men  who  volun- 
teered for  hospital  service  from  our  regiment, 
men  of  high  class  with  much  medical  skill  and 
aptitude — we  had  several  graduate  physicians  and 
medical  students  in  the  ranks — nine  took  the  fever 
and  three  died.  The  hospitals  were  so  crowded 
that  there  were  not  sufficient  beds  or  cots  to  re- 
ceive the  sick  men,  and  I  have  known  them  to 
lie  all  night  on  a  stretcher  but  a  few  inches  from 
the  damp  ground. 

Ice  would  give  out,  milk  would  turn  sour,  in 
short,  there  was  a  lack  of  everything.  These  con- 
ditions never  were  remedied  after  all  the  hue  and 
cry  that  was  raised  and  the  deaths  that  occurred. 
Near  the  very  last  of  our  term  of  service  such 
common  necessaries  for  the  sick  as  blankets  had 
to  be  purchased  by  private  funds  furnished  by 
the  good  citizens  of  Philadelphia  and  elsewhere, 
and  I  saw  men  actually  dying  with  the  fever  lying 
on  wire  cots  with  one  fold  of  a  blanket  under 
them  and  one  fold  over  them,  and  lucky  to  get 
that! 

I  took  the  colonel  over  to  the  general  hospital 
on  one  occasion  just  before  we  broke  camp  to  go 
to  Philadelphia,  and  showed  him  the  men  lying 
in  tents  with  the  rain  beating  down  upon  them. 
We  had  a  grand  row  with  the  authorities  before 
we  got  the  matter  remedied.  The  mildly  sick,  the 
desperately  ill,  those  raving  in  delirium,  and  the 
dying  were,  for  the  greater  part  of  the  time,  all 
huddled  together  in  one  mixed  mass.  Where  there 

146 


IN  THE   HOSPITALS  AT  CHICKAMAUGA 

were  board  floors  for  the  hospital  tents  they  speed- 
ily became  so  very  dirty  as  to  disgust  the  beholders. 
As  they  were  at  first  made  of  unplaned  rough 
boards  there  was  no  way  properly  to  clean  them. 

The  men  finally  objected  so  seriously  to  going 
to  the  division  hospital — and  I  could  not  blame 
them — that  the  doctor  and  I  established  a  hos- 
pital in  our  own  camp,  in  defiance  of  regulations 
and  everything  else.  I  got  the  money,  bought 
the  supplies,  and  kept  the  business  and  spiritual 
end  of  it  going.  The  doctor  did  the  rest.  How 
that  heroic  young  man  did  labor!  It  nearly  killed 
him. 

The  men  fairly  swarmed  into  the  hospital.  I 
can  remember  the  sick  sensation  that  used  to  come 
over  me  when  I  would  be  sitting  in  my  tent  near 
the  hospital  and  see  again  the  melancholy  pro- 
cession of  four  men  coming  up  the  hill  carrying 
another  prostration  on  a  stretcher.  Between  the 
sick,  those  on  special  detail,  regimental  guards, 
and  those  nursing  the  sick,  we  got  down  to  a 
skeleton  organization,  and  yet  we  were  one  of 
the  best  regiments  there.  Our  percentage  of  health 
was  higher  and  our  percentage  of  efficiency  much 
greater  than  that  of  almost  any  other  regiment 
in  the  camp. 

Finally,  the  authorities  broke  up  our  hospital 
and  compelled  us  to  send  the  men  to  the  hated 
division  hospital  again.  When  they  knew  they 
would  have  to  go  there,  they  would  conceal  their 
illness  until  they  actually  dropped  on  the  field. 
Their  pitiful  protests  ring  in  my  ears  yet.  The 

147 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND   TENTS 

city  government  of  Philadelphia  finally  sent  down 
a  well-equipped  hospital  train,  which  took  the  most 
desperate  cases  back  to  the  city,  where  they  were 
treated  freely  and  efficiently  in  the  public  and  pri- 
vate hospitals  of  that  city.  The  State  of  Penn- 
sylvania sent  a  second  train  later  on,  and  the 
Veteran  Corps  of  the  regiment  to  which  we  be- 
longed, a  third  train. 

I  suppose  that  out  of  eleven  hundred  men  all 
told  we  must  have  had  nearly  thirty  per  cent,  at 
different  times  ill  of  the  fever.  These  conditions 
might  have  been  remedied.  At  the  very  time  the 
men  were  sleeping  on  stretchers  and  on  the  wet 
ground,  there  were  carloads  of  cots  at  Lytle  Sta- 
tion near  the  camp;  but  similar  states  of  affairs 
have  always  obtained  in  history  until  armies  have 
become  veteran.  While  the  American  soldiers  were 
barefoot  and  naked  at  Valley  Forge  quantities  of 
shoes  and  clothing  were  available  for  their  use  at 
various  supply  stations. 

The  situation  was  perfectly  well  known  to  the 
authorities.  With  a  reckless  disregard  of  military 
propriety  a  number  of  us  made  it  known  in  the 
most  forcible  manner,  and  in  every  way.  I  re- 
member that  on  one  occasion  preaching  in  Phila- 
delphia while  still  in  the  service,  I  stated  things 
publicly  to  an  immense  congregation,  much  as 
I  have  stated  them  here.  I  think  I  was  desperate 
at  the  time,  and  I  would  have  welcomed  a  court- 
martial  or  anything  which  would  have  compelled 
the  officials  to  take  cognizance  of  the  situation. 

My  statements  were  published  in  the  Associated 
148 


IN  THE  HOSPITALS  AT  CHICKAMAUGA 

Press  despatches,  and  of  course  spread  broadcast. 
I  received  a  letter  from  the  investigating  com- 
mittee in  Washington  asking  if  these  things  were 
true,  and  demanding  to  know  whether  I  would 
substantiate  them.  I  replied  that  they  were  true, 
and  that,  while  I  was  not  a  prosecuting  attorney, 
I  could  establish  them  beyond  peradventure,  and 
that  I  would  be  only  too  glad  to  do  so  if  given 
a  chance.  Nothing  came  of  it. 

In  one  of  the  stories  which  accompany  these 
sketches  there  is  an  account  of  the  hospital  train, 
and  most  of  the  incidents  of  the  journey  which  I 
took  upon  it  are  literally  true,  even  to  the  passion 
flowers.  The  day  after  we  reached  Philadelphia 
I  went  around  the  hospitals  visiting  the  men.  I 
arrived  at  one  of  the  largest  hospitals  just  before 
the  regular  visiting  hour.  The  mothers,  fathers, 
wives,  sisters,  relatives,  and  friends  of  the  sick 
soldiers  whom  we  had  brought  back  from  camp 
were  crowded  in  the  small  waiting-room.  As 
chaplain,  of  course,  I  had  the  privilege  of  seeing 
the  soldiers  at  any  time,  and  I  had  just  come 
from  the  ward  in  which  they  had  been  installed. 

When  I  entered  this  room  in  my  uniform  I  was 
known  by  sight  to  some  of  the  people,  and  the 
knowledge  was  at  once  communicated  to  every- 
body. I  never  want  to  pass  through  such  an  half 
hour  again  as  I  spent  then.  These  people  crowded 
around  me  in  a  perfect  panic  of  terror,  wanting 
to  know  about  their  dear  ones,  whom  they  had 
not  yet  been  permitted  to  see.  Mothers  were  wait- 
ing to  look  upon  dying  sons,  poor  wives  carrying 

149 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

children,  whose  sole  support  lay  in  the  hospital 
above,  fathers — you  can  imagine  the  scene  from 
the  questions.  , 

"How  is  my  boy?" 

"Will  my  son  know  me?" 

"Is  my  husband  yet  alive?" 

"Oh,  for  God's  sake,  will  my  brother  live?" 

It  was  simply  awful!  They  turned  to  me,  and 
I  felt  utterly  impotent  and  helpless,  but  I  told 
them  the  truth,  absolutely  and  without  conceal- 
ment. I  thought  it  was  better  that  they  should 
hear  from  me  what  the  situation  really  was  than 
be  shocked  and  surprised  beyond  control  when 
they  saw  the  objects  of  their  solicitude.  The 
surgeon  in  charge  of  the  hospital  was  frantic  at 
the  confusion  and  commotion,  and  he  flatly  re- 
fused to  allow  anybody  to  enter  the  ward  until 
everybody  was  composed  and  quiet.  The  effort 
some  of  these  people  made  was  pitiful.  Finally, 
they  became  sufficiently  controlled  to  be  taken  to 
the  ward. 

The  doctor  and  I  took  them  there  and  directed 
each  individual  or  group  to  the  proper  person. 
They  were  composed  indeed.  The  deadly  air  of 
sickness  in  that  ward  would  compose  anybody. 
I  saw  them  stand  with  clasped  hands  and  bowed 
heads  at  the  bedside  of  some  fever-delirious  suf- 
ferer without  saying  a  word,  except  to  whisper 
perhaps,  "My  boy,  my  boy!"  And  yet  with  such 
a  look  of  despair  on  their  faces  as  humanity  does 
not  often  see.  Sometimes  there  was  recognition 
and  a  feeble  word  of  greeting  from  the  patient, 


<*' 


IN  THE  HOSPITALS  AT  CHICKAMAUGA 

but  for  the  most  part  the  men  were  unconscious 
or  delirious  and  said  nothing. 

I  had  to  return  to  the  camp  the  next  day,  but 
it  was  a  satisfaction  to  know  that  the  sick  men 
were  left  in  such  good  hands.  In  spite  of  every 
care,  however,  many  of  them  died. 

There  was  an  heroic  side  to  the  men  in  the 
hospital.  The  father  of  one  boy  who  was  very  ill 
came  down  to  Knoxville  to  get  him,  and  while 
preparations  were  being  made  to  remove  him  he 
brought  to  the  hospital  a  case  of  Apollinaris  wa- 
ter and  plenty  of  ice.  Only  those  who  have  been 
ill  with  typhoid  fever  could  appreciate  what  a 
luxury  this  was.  The  boy  in  question,  who  died 
after  he  got  home  from  the  same  fever,  reso- 
lutely refused  to  drink  alone.  I  remember  him 
shaking  his  head,  and  saying,  over  and  over  again: 

"Give  some  to  the  other  fellows,  father;  they 
are  more  thirsty  than  I  am." 

Did  not  Sir  Philip  Sidney  .gain  immortality  by 
the  bestowal  of  a  cup  of  cold  water?  And  what 
does  the  Master  say  of  such  an  action? 

The  men  were  soldiers  in  their  spirit  to  the  very 
last  gasp.  One  of  them  lay  dying.  When  the 
shrill  note  of  the  bugle  pierced  his  dull  ear  and 
reached  his  darkened  faculties  he  strove  with  all 
his  strength  to  get  out  of  bed,  saying,  "It's  the 
assembly!  They're  calling  me!"  when  he  fell  back 
dead. 

Later  on,  when  dying  patients  were  removed  to 
a  separate  tent,  I  was  visiting  in  the  hospital, 
when  I  heard  a  woman  sobbing  within  the  "death 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

tent/'  as  the  soldiers  called  it.  I  went  in  there. 
She  was  alone  with  a  dying  soldier,  a  mere  boy, 
it  seemed,  a  lad  from  Ohio.  She  was  walking  up 
and  down  the  tent  in  tearless  anguish.  The  boy 
was  insensible,  and  the  end  was  rapidly  approach- 
ing. Presently  it  came.  I  never  heard  anybody 
rave  like  that  woman.  She  was  a  sweet,  tender, 
gracious-looking  woman,  yet  she  cursed  and  blas- 
phemed and  wrung  her  hands — I  could  hardly 
hold  her  by  main  strength.  This  was  her  oldest 
son,  and  he  had  gone  away  in  spite  of  her  en- 
treaties— his  soldiering  had  all  come  to  this  bitter 
end.  She  was  completely  out  of  her  mind,  and 
the  physicians  finally  quieted  her  by  medicinal 
means.  Like  Job's  wife,  she  thought  to  curse 
God  and  die. 

There  wasn't  much  humor  about  the  hospital 
service;  still  there  was  a  little.  You  have  heard 
the  story  about  the  soldier  in  the  hospital  to  whom 
the  visiting  young  lady  came  and  asked  him  if 
she  could  do  anything  for  him,  if  she  could  only 
bathe  his  head. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  soldier,  wearily,  "you  can  if 
you  think  it  will  do  you  any  good.  It's  been 
bathed  about  a  dozen  times  this  morning,  by  every- 
body that  has  come  along.  I've  got  used  to  it 


now." 


In  the  first  hospital  train  there  was  a  car  next 
to  the  engine  filled  with  convalescents,  who  were 
on  strict  diet.  I  was  in  charge  of  them.  At  the 
first  stop  the  front  brakeman  came  back  to  me 
and  said: 

152 


IN  THE  HOSPITALS  AT  CHICKAMAUGA 

"Them  convalescents  of  yourn  up  front  there  is 
gone  into  that  saloon  by  the  station.  You'd  bet- 
ter look  after  them." 

I  double-quicked  into  that  saloon,  of  course. 
The  men  were  lined  up  in  front  of  the  bar  with 
about  twenty-five  mugs  of  foaming  beer  on  the 
counter.  My  opportune  arrival  nipped  the  scheme 
in  the  bud;  not  a  man  got  more  than  a  smell  of 
the  beer.  It  was  cruel,  they  thought,  but  the 
doctor's  orders  were  not  to  be  gainsaid.  They 
were  faced  about  and  marched  out  to  the  car,  and 
the  train  pulled  out,  leaving  a  broken-hearted  bar- 
keeper raving  on  the  platform  and  demanding  who 
was  to  pay  for  his  beer.  I  do  not  suppose  that 
anybody  ever  remunerated  him.  I  know  I  did  not. 

The  convalescents  appeared  to  think  that  their 
departure  on  the  hospital  train  entitled  them  to 
unlimited  indulgence  of  their  starved  appetites. 
It  was  the  hardest  kind  of  work  to  make  them  eat 
according  to  the  prescribed  regimen,  and  they  had 
to  be  watched  carefully  at  every  stop,  and  espe- 
cially at  meal  stations;  they  were  more  trouble 
than  all  the  rest  of  the  train. 


153 


CHAPTER    IV 
Two  Peculiar  Weddings 

Weddings. — An  Impediment. — The  Priest  is  Firm. — Her  Di- 
lemma.— Hearts  Win. — The  Wedding  March. — Married 
Again.— "Whoa,  There,  Whoa!"— "In  the  Soup."— Mar- 
ried, but  not  by  Telegraph.— A  Fraud.— The  Old  Story.— 
The  Honor  of  his  Name. — Not  Under  Duress. — I  Make  a 
Plan. — Man  and  Wife  by  Common  Law. — An  Expected 
End.— Baptized  and  Deserts.— This  One  Stayed.— Church 
Call.— The  Music.— An  Inestimable  Blessing. 

MARRYING  and  giving  in  marriage  would 
seem  to  be  foreign  to  the  opportunities  of 
a  camp;  yet  I  had  two  weddings  at  Chickamauga, 
both  of  them  peculiar  in  character  and  one  of  them 
unique.  One  afternoon  an  estimable  non-commis- 
sioned officer  came  up  to  my  tent  and  said  he 
wanted  to  get  married.  It  seems  that  his  pros- 
pective bride,  alarmed  at  the  apparent  certainty 
of  our  departure  to  the  front — which  everybody 
expected  and  hoped  would  take  place  in  a  day  or 
two — had  come  down  alone  from  Philadelphia  to 
marry  the  man  of  her  choice  before  we  started. 

While  the  groom,  who  had  been  given  a  fur- 
lough, terminable  at  any  time  by  orders  to  move, 
of  course,  had  gone  to  fetch  his  bride,  who  was 
then  in  the  camp,  I  made  some  inquiries  among  the 
officers  who  knew  both  parties  at  home,  and  satis- 

154 


TWO   PECULIAR   WEDDINGS 

fied  myself  of  the  propriety  of  the  proposed  cere- 
mony. Presently  the  two  stopped  before  the  tent. 
The  bride  was  a  very  bright,  pretty  young  girl, 
full  of  excitement,  anticipation,  and  foreboding, 
and  naturally  inclined  to  burst  into  tears. 

When  I  talked  with  her.  I  found  she  was  a 
Roman  Catholic,  and  that  of  course  she  desired 
to  be  married  by  a  Roman  Catholic  priest.  The 
groom  was  a  Baptist.  I  told  them  to  make  them- 
selves at  home  in  my  tent  while  I  rode  over  to 
an  adjacent  Western  regiment  brigaded  with  ours, 
which  had  a  Roman  Catholic  priest  for  its  chap- 
lain, and  that  I  would  fetch  him  to  perform  the 
ceremony. 

Presently  Father  M and  I  were  back  at  the 

tent.  At  his  request  I  left  him  alone  with  the 
young  couple,  whom  he  wished  to  interrogate. 
In  a  few  moments  I  was  summoned  to  the  tent 
and  found  a  pretty  state  of  affairs. 

The  groom  being  a  Protestant  and  the  bride  a 
Romanist,  a  dispensation  was  necessary  to  enable 
the  priest  to  perform  the  service.  As  they  had  no 
dispensation,  he  refused  to  marry  them.  I  sug- 
gested that  the  necessary  document  might  be  se- 
cured from  the  local  bishop.  There  did  not  appear 
to  be  any  such  dignitary  available.  Then  I  advised 
that  the  dispensation  be  procured  by  telegraph, 
which  was  also  pronounced  impracticable,  and  we 
were  informed  that  it  was  a  matter  of  considerable 
expense  at  best.  Neither  of  the  young  people  had 
a  great  deal  of  money.  I  expect  the  bride  had 
enough  to  take  her  back  home  and  the  groom 

155 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

probably  a  little  to  enable  them  to  enjoy  a  short 
honeymoon. 

It  was  growing  late  in  the  afternoon.  There 
was  that  young  girl  alone  in  a  camp  of  sixty 
thousand  men.  She  had  no  friends  in  Chatta- 
nooga to  whom  she  and  the  young  man  could 
go  that  night.  I  had  every  confidence  in  both  of 
them,  but  it  did  not  seem  to  me  to  be  right  that 
they  should  be  allowed  to  go  away  from  the  camp 
without  being  married.  I  said  as  much  to  the 
priest,  and  urged  him  to  take  the  responsibility 
of  marrying  them  under  the  unusual  circumstances 
and  tell  the  bishop  that  he  had  done  so,  and  let 
the  bishop  take  it  out  on  him,  but  he  refused  point- 
blank  to  do  so. 

Finally,  I  turned  to  the  young  woman  and  told 
her  I  would  marry  her  myself  and  that  I  would 
bind  her  as  tight  and  fast  as  the  Pope  of  Rome 
could  do.  The  priest,  who  was  as  gentle  and 
courteous  in  his  manner  as  he  was  firm  in  his 
decision,  informed  her  that  he  considered  it  his 
duty  to  point  out  to  her  that  she  would  be  im- 
mediately excommunicated  if  she  consented  to  my 
proposal,  and  that  her  Church  would  not  regard 
it  as  a  marriage  in  fact. 

As  I  look  back  upon  it,  it  was  quite  a  dramatic 
scene;  the  troubled  young  girl,  the  anxious  groom, 
and  the  two  clergymen.  I  took  it  upon  myself  to 
point  out  the  situation  to  both  of  them,  and  urged 
that  at  any  risk  they  ought  to  be  married  before 
they  left. 

Love   won   the   battle.      She   decided   that   she 

156 


TWO   PECULIAR   WEDDINGS 

would  be  married.  The  priest  sadly  left  us  to- 
gether. I  sent  for  the  major  and  the  major's  wife, 
who,  by  happy  chance,  happened  to  be  in  the 
camp,  and  was  about  to  proceed  with  the  cere- 
mony when  it  was  developed  that  the  young  man 
had  not  procured  the  license  required  by  law! 
However,  since  matters  had  progressed  so  far,  I 
determined  to  marry  them  without  a  license,  real- 
izing that  while  the  consequences  might  be  serious 
to  myself,  the  marriage  would  be  none  the  less 
valid  to  them. 

The  major  gave  the  bride  away  and  his  wife 
supported  her.  The  company  officers  were  there, 
too,  and  far  down  the  company  street,  facing  the 
officers'  row  and  my  tent,  the  men  of  the  regiment 
were  congregated  in  a  great  crowd.  I  was  fear- 
fully anxious  lest  they  should  laugh  or  say  some- 
thing, but  a  metropolitan  audience  could  not  have 
behaved  better  until  the  ceremony  was  completed. 
Then  such  cheering  and  yelling  you  never  heard! 
As  the  groom  led  the  blushing  bride  down  the 
street  toward  the  outskirts  of  the  camp,  where  a 
carriage  had  been  secured,  the  band  turned  out  in 
heterogeneous  uniform  and  frantically  played  the 
"Bride  Elect."  As  they  passed  the  commissary 
tent  I  think  the  soldiers  clustered  about  it  must 
have  thrown  away  at  least  a  barrel  of  rations  in 
the  shape  of  rice ;  so  amid  the  cheers  of  the  entire 
regiment  the  bridal  party  drove  away. 

Early  the  next  day  I  went  out  to  Chattanooga, 
received  the  license  which  the  groom,  under  my 
instructions,  had  procured  that  morning  and  briefly 

157 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND    TENTS 

married  them  again.  They  certainly  were  a  thor- 
oughly married  couple.  I  see  them  every  once 
in  awhile  now,  and  they  are  as  happy  as  larks  and 
doing  well. 

Weddings  are  queer  things  anyway.  Though 
it  was  not  in  the  camp,  this  wedding  reminds  me 
of  two  others.  One  was  in  a  little  church  in  a 
little  summer-resort  at  which  I  happened  to  offi- 
ciate. The  natives  of  the  village,  in  which  there 
had  not  been  a  church  wedding  from  time  imme- 
morial, were  in  a  fever  of  anxiety  and  anticipation, 
and  the  church  was  surrounded  by  a  miscellaneous 
crowd,  including  many  hack-drivers — if  I  may  ap- 
ply that  honorable  term  to  the  ten-cent  coaches 
which  ran  about  the  town. 

It  was  a  very  hot  day,  and  just  as  the  groom 
was  asked  if  he  would  take  "this  woman"  and  so 
on,  one  of  the  horses  became  restless,  and  in  the 
silence  in  which  I  waited  for  the  answer  a  sten- 
torian voice  roared  out  from  the  street,  "Whoa, 
there!"  But  the  groom  did  not  "whoa,"  though 
he  looked  somewhat  startled.  That  reminds  me 
of  another  story  of  a  wedding. 

The  simple  words  in  which  the  man  plights  his 
troth  are  usually  stumbling-blocks.  On  the  occa- 
sion of  a  certain  wedding  the  groom  in  his  per- 
turbation "blighted  his  broth"  to  the  bride,  and 
she  said  that  at  that  moment  she  felt  as  if  she 
were  certainly  "in  the  soup!"  I  wonder  if  there 
was  a  persistency  of  idea  in  the  subsequent  mar- 
ried life? 

But  to  return  to  the  camp.    The  other  marriage 

158 


TWO    PECULIAR   WEDDINGS 

was  not  an  occasion  of  joy  to  anybody  unless  it 
was,  perhaps,  to  me.  I  did  take  a  certain  satis- 
faction in  it,  though  I  remember  I  was  placarded 
all  over  the  United  States  by  the  Associated  Press 
as  having  married  a  couple  by  telegraph! 

This  was  the  unique  one,  and  it  came  about  in 
this  way.  I  suppose  every  man  who  has  dealt 
with  masses  of  men  has  learned  that  a  certain 
proportion  of  them  are  hypocrites,  and  "Pity  'tis, 
'tis  true,"  that  a  man  who  volunteers  for  religious 
duty  to  a  superior  who  has  it  in  his  power  to 
advantage  his  lot  or  ameliorate  his  condition,  had 
better  be  watched  unless  full  knowledge  is  at  hand. 

One  specimen  of  the  kind  of  men  that  honest 
humanity  instinctively  distrusts,  a  new  recruit  in 
the  regiment  by  the  way,  came  up  to  me  one  after- 
noon and  volunteered  to  assist  me  in  administer- 
ing religious  consolation  to  the  sick.  He  had  been 
one  of  the  most  interested  attendants  at  church 
and  had  been  officiously  foremost  in  volunteering 
anything  and  everything  necessary  to  promote  the 
services.  Somehow  the  man  did  not  ring  true, 
and  for  the  life  of  me  I  could  not  help  suspecting 
him.  I  remarked  that  it  was  my  business  to  ad- 
minister religious  consolation  to  the  sick,  and  that 
I  felt  abundantly  able  to  do  it,  but  that  if  I  needed 
any  assistance  I  would  take  his  offer  under  advise- 
ment. 

A  few  days  after  two  letters  came  to  me.  One 
was  from  a  mother,  the  other  from  a  daughter, 
and  both  of  them  concerned  this  man.  An  old, 
old  story,  none  the  less  bitter  from  its  age.  The 

159 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

consequences  of  the  woman's  fall  were  becoming 
apparent  and  the  young  girl  was  in  an  agony 
of  shame  and  the  mother  not  less  so.  I  sent  for 
the  would-be  "administerer  of  religious  consola- 
tion to  the  sick"  and  confronted  him  with  the 
statements.  The  sickening  story  was  all  true.  He 
had  wrought  the  undoing  of  the  young  girl — 
very  much  his  junior  in  years,  by  the  way — who 
had  been  a  fellow-worker  with  him  in  a  certain 
Sunday-school,  and  he  had  done  it  from  the  low- 
est of  motives. 

He  frankly  stated  that  he  was  engaged  to  an- 
other girl  and  that  he  did  not  love  this  one.  I 
have  no  definite  remembrance  of  what  I  said,  but 
I  imagined  it  was  sufficiently  severe.  Frankly,  I 
had  not  the  slightest  bit  of  Christian  charity  or 
anything  else  for  him,  but  I  was  determined  that 
whatever  kind  of  reparation  could  be  made  should 
be  made  by  him. 

As  I  said,  we  were  enlisted  for  service,  and  were 
consequently  expecting  to  go  away  very  soon.  If 
we  went  some  of  us  might  be  killed  in  action  and 
certainly  some  of  us  would  die  from  disease — they 
were  dying  already  in  the  camp,  and  while  I  hoped 
in  my  heart,  and  I  may  even  have  said  so,  that 
he  might  come  within  one  or  the  other  of  these 
categories  of  disaster,  I  thought  it  well  that  before 
we  went  he  should  give  to  the  young  woman  the 
honorable  sanction  of  his  dishonorable  name,  so 
that  she  and  her  child  would  be  entitled  to  any 
benefits  which  could  come  to  the  wife  of  a  soldier. 
Queer  that  his  name  would  ever  honor  anyone ! 

160 


TWO   PECULIAR   WEDDINGS 

He  finally  agreed  to  do  anything  in  his  power, 
and  I  was  particular  to  impress  upon  him,  with  all 
the  vehemence  that  in  me  lay,  that  he  was  not 
doing  this  under  duress,  or  from  any  threat,  or 
by  any  urging  of  mine,  but  of  his  own  free  will. 
He  said  he  would  go  to  her  and  marry  her  if  I 
would  get  him  a  furlough,  but  I  doubted  my  abil- 
ity to  get  him  a  furlough,  and  then  I  was  dis- 
inclined to  do  so  if  anything  else  could  be  done. 

At  last  I  thought  of  a  plan  and  went  with  it  to 
the  legal  lights  of  the  regiment:  some  of  the 
officers  of  the  command  were  lawyers,  bright  fel- 
lows at  that,  and  carefully  concealing  names  I  laid 
the  case  before  them  with  the  request  that  they 
draw  up  a  contract,  which,  after  stating  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  case,  would  formally  acknowl- 
edge the  marriage  and  the  paternity  on  the  part 
of  the  man,  of  the  child,  with  other  details  not 
necessary  to  enter  into  here.  This  contract  I  pro- 
posed to  have  sworn  to  and  registered  in  Chatta- 
nooga and  then  sent  to  Philadelphia  for  similar 
action,  and  I  was  of  the  opinion  that  so  long  as 
no  other  rights  were  prejudiced  thereby,  a  com- 
mon law  marriage  would  thus  be  constituted  and 
effected. 

The  young  attorneys  of  the  regiment  laughed 
at  my  proposition  at  first,  but  on  second  thought 
it  was  considered  more  favorably.  It  was  de- 
bated for  several  days  quietly  among  the  best  of 
them,  and  they  finally  drew  up  the  required  paper, 
which  was  duly  signed  after  I  had  inserted  the 
names,  sworn  to,  witnessed,  recorded  before  a 

161 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

Commissary  in  town,  and  sent  to  Philadelphia  for 
like  action,  and  so  the  young  couple  were  married ! 

I  said  I  took  no  joy  in  the  situation,  but  I  had 
a  grim  satisfaction  in  the  premises.  I  did  not  take 
any  joy  because,  as  I  knew  the  young  man,  it 
almost  seemed  a  crime  to  ask  anyone  to  take  him 
for  a  husband,  yet  such  is  the  peculiar  condition 
of  society  that  I  could  not  but  feel  glad  that  the 
baby  would  have  a  legal  name  even  though  it  were 
such  a  one.  I  tried  my  best  during  the  term  of 
service  in  which  we  were  together  to  work  upon 
the  feelings  of  the  man,  to  make  him  realize  his 
action,  and  to  induce  in  him  a  better  frame  of 
mind.  I  think  maybe  I  had  some  faint  success, 
I'm  not  sure,  but  I  was  not  surprised  at  a  subse- 
quent separation  which  was  arranged  between  the 
young  people,  especially  as  the  baby  never  came 
to  life.  Thank  God! 

From  weddings  to  baptism  is  an  easy  transi- 
tion. I  baptized  a  number  of  soldiers,  some  of 
them  in  hospitals  in  cases  of  dangerous  illness, 
one  at  least  in  extremis,  and  several  others  in  the 
ordinary  course  of  service.  There  are  good  and 
bad  Christians  everywhere,  as  there  are  good  and 
bad  men.  I  remember  one  man  who  was  very 
eager  for  baptism.  I  prepared  him  as  well  as 
possible,  made  such  examination  as  I  could,  and 
finally  at  church  services — held  that  Sunday  in 
the  afternoon  instead  of  morning,  because  the  pay- 
master came  in  the  morning^  and  everything  had 
to  give  way  to  the  paymaster — I  baptized  him 
before  the  assembled  regiment. 

162 


TWO   PECULIAR   WEDDINGS 

The  next  day  he  deserted  with  his  pay  and  was 
never  heard  of  afterward.  The  captain  of  his 
company  was  extremely  solicitous  to  know  what 
I  had  done  to  him,  and  the  officers  had  a  great 
deal  of  fun  about  the  matter.  They  would  go  up 
to  the  colonel  and  request  him  to  put  So-and-so 
under  guard  and  carefully  patrol  the  camp,  as  the 
chaplain  was  going  to  have  another  baptism,  and 
they  could  not  tell  what  the  results  would  be.  It 
was  fun  from  their  point  of  view,  but  sad  from 
mine. 

I  remember  another  man,  however,  who  was  to 
be  baptized  at  the  public  service,  but  by  some 
accident  failed  to  be  present.  He  came  up  to 
me  shortly  after  the  service  and  asked  me  if  it 
was  too  late  to  baptize  him.  I  said  no,  certainly 
not.  I  took  him  down  to  his  company  street — 
he  suggested  that  I  do  so — and  there  amid  his 
comrades  he  knelt  down  on  the  earth  and  received 
the  sacrament.  It  was  as  plucky  a  thing  as  I  have 
ever  seen  done.  He  was  a  manly,  straightforward 
fellow,  and  his  comrades  crowded  about  him  and 
stood  in  respectful  silence  while  the  ceremony  took 
place.  There  was  no  need  to  put  a  watch  on  that 
man. 

Church  services  were  held,  of  course,  regularly, 
every  Sunday  morning.  When  the  weather  was 
bad  we  held  them  in  the  immense  tent  erected  by 
the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association,  but  ordi- 
narily the  service  took  place  out  in  the  wood.  A 
rude  enclosure  of  logs  covered  with  bits  of  pine, 
screened  at  the  back  by  white  cotton,  with  a  small 

163 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND    TENTS 

platform  for  me  to  stand  upon,  and  a  rude  desk 
made  out  of  tree  trunks,  constituted  the  chancel. 
There  were  two  long  benches  from  the  head-quar- 
ters tent  to  hold  the  choir,  barrel  chairs  and  stools 
for  the  officers,  while  the  men  sat  around  on  the 
ground.  Sometimes  the  reading-desk  was  built 
of  drums  and  covered  with  flags. 

I  had  a  little  portable  organ  which  the  junior 
major  of  the  regiment — a  splendid  fellow — played. 
I  also  had  printed  a  number  of  leaflets  containing 
a  few  favorite  hymns  and  a  short  service.  We 
had  choir  practice  on  some  convenient  evening, 
and  as  many  of  the  men  had  good  voices  the  re- 
sults were  inspiring.  The  singing  was  hearty  and 
fine  and  the  responses  good.  The  services  usually 
were  well  attended,  a  much  larger  proportion  of 
the  regiment  being  present  than  would  be  found 
from  the  same  number  of  people  gathered  in  a 
city.  Except  when  the  church  was  boycotted  the 
attendance  was  usually  very  satisfactory.  The 
officers  set  a  good  example  in  that  to  the  men. 

Frequently,  when  circumstances  permitted,  we 
celebrated  the  Holy  Communion,  early  in  the 
morning.  The  attendance  at  this  service,  of  course, 
varied;  I  think  the  highest  number  was  about 
eighty,  though  usually  it  was  much  less. 

The  Young  Men's  Christian  Association  tent 
was  the  greatest  blessing  to  the  men.  It  provided 
books,  papers,  writing  material,  entertainment,  ice- 
water,  a  place  to  play  games,  write  letters,  read, 
converse,  and  enjoy  a  quiet  moment  of  relaxation 
from  the  iron  discipline.  It  was,  in  effect,  a  men's 

164 


TWO   PECULIAR   WEDDINGS 

club,  and  a  splendid  antidote  to  the  vicious  can- 
.teen.  The  devoted  young  men  in  charge  of  it 
had  their  service  on  Sunday  night.  They  did  a 
noble  work,  and  I  am  glad  to  pay  them  this  un- 
solicited tribute  of  appreciation. 


165 


CHAPTER    V 
In  the  Field  and  on  the  Transport 

Busy  Days. — A  Volunteer  Aide. — Almost  the  Real  Thing. — A 
Successful  Campaign.— Playing  Soldier  Hard  American 
Adaptability.— Battle  Exercises.— What  We  Ate.— Clothes 
Made  all  the  Difference.— Rest  on  a  Rock.— "Major  Big 
Talk."— The  Champion  Liar.— I  Do  It  Myself.— On  the 
Transport.— Not  Sea-Sick.— Typhoid.— I  Live  on  Appolli- 
naris. — Infuriating  Frankness. — Ganymede. — Home  Again. 

I  WAS  too  busy  in  the  camp  to  be  ill  myself.  I 
remember  on  one  or  two  occasions  when  I  felt 
sickness  approaching  I  literally  worked  it  off,  either 
by  taking  a  long,  hard  walk  or  a  long,  hard  ride, 
keeping  at  it  until  I  was  in  a  dripping  perspiration 
and  felt  better.  Toward  the  close  of  our  stay  at 
Chickamauga  the  Government  did  succeed  in  es- 
tablishing two  hospitals,  which  were  models  in 
every  way  and  where  the  men  were  attended  by 
trained  nurses  and  competent  physicians  and  re- 
ceived every  care,  and  where  there  were  supplies 
of  all  kinds  in  plenty.  It  was  part  of  my  duty 
to  visit  these  hospitals.  In  fact,  one  day's  visiting 
would  involve  a  ride  of  perhaps  twenty  miles. 
Of  course,  I  did  not  have  to  do  this  every  day, 
but  as  often  as  I  could. 

Then  it  was  my  pleasure  to  be  present  at  all  the 
drills,  which,  having  received  a  professional  edu- 
cation from  the  United  States  Government,  I  could 

1 66 


FIELD  AND   TRANSPORT 

appreciate  and  enjoy  better  than  most  chaplains. 
I  was  happy,  too,  at  being  chosen  on  several  occa- 
sions as  an  aide  to  supplement  the  meagre  staff 
of  the  general  in  command  of  our  brigade,  an  old 
veteran  who  had  risen  to  the  rank  of  lieutenant- 
general,  while  scarcely  more  than  a  boy,  in  the 
Confederate  army. 

We  all  loved  old  General  Rosser.  He  had  not 
mastered  the  minutiae  of  modern  drill  tactics  pos- 
sibly, but  he  was  a  thorough  soldier  from  his 
gray  head  down.  He  put  us  through  all  sorts  of 
practical  exercises  of  great  value,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  that  had  we  been  given  the  opportunity  we 
earnestly  craved,  under  his  leadership,  we  might 
have  done  something.  Singular,  how  a  peaceable 
and  peaceful  body  of  citizens  thirsted  for  an  op- 
portunity to  go  out  to  kill  somebody! 

The  nearest  we  came  to  the  real  thing  was  in  a 
brilliant  series  of  battle  exercises  arranged  by  the 
general.  The  ground  was  admirably  adapted  for 
such  undertakings,  and  a  certain  low  tree-covered 
hill  facing  a  bit  of  open  and  broken  country, 
traversed  by  ravines  and  deep  hollows,  filled  with 
trees,  was  selected  for  the  defensive  position.  Two 
regiments  of  the  brigade  were  told  off  to  hold 
the  hills;  one  regiment  was  to  make  the  attack, 
the  object  of  the  game  being  for  the  attacking- 
regiment,  if  possible,  to  reach  such  position  un- 
discovered as  would  permit  them  to  rush  the  de- 
fence. Scouts  were  thrown  out  by  the  defenders 
which  would  have  to  be  driven  in  by  the  attackers. 

Each  of  the  three  regiments  in  turn  had  the 
167 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

privilege  of  the  offence.  The  first  two  tries  ended 
in  overwhelming  victories  for  the  defence.  The 
approaching  regiment  was  easily  detected,  and 
would  have  been  cut  to  pieces  before  it  got  any- 
where near  the  crest  of  the  hill. 

Our  regiment,  the  last  to  attempt  it,  determined 
to  do  better.  The  colonel,  his  staff,  and  the  field 
officers  spent  the  morning  in  going  over  the  ground 
carefully.  They  noted  every  possible  cover,  and 
examined  every  possible  approach.  As  I  had  wit- 
nessed the  manoeuvres  of  the  two  preceding  days 
from  the  general's  staff,  and  had  heard  his  com- 
ments thereon,  I  was  able  to  assist  their  delibera- 
tions somewhat,  by  repeating  his  words. 

When  the  eventful  afternoon  came,  by  the 
colonel's  orders,  the  men  covered  themselves  with 
branches  of  trees,  then  in  full  leaf.  At  a  little 
distance  away  the  regiment  looked  like  a  dense 
bunch  of  underbrush.  The  general  and  his  staff 
took  post  with  the  defence  on  the  crest  of  the  hill 
and  awaited  developments.  Presently  the  scouts 
for  the  defence  were  driven  in  after  a  large  body 
of  them  had  been  neatly  surrounded  and  captured. 
We  waited  and  waited  for  the  advancing  regi- 
ment, looking  eagerly  down  over  the  ground  from 
which  they  naturally  would  have  been  expected 
to  appear. 

Everybody,  including  the  general,  was  intensely 
surprised  when  a  part  of  the  regiment  broke  out 
of  the  wood,  around  one  of  the  flanks  of  the  posi- 
tion scarcely  two  hundred  feet  away.  The  tree- 
clad  men  rose,  as  it  were,  out  of  the  earth.  It 

168 


FIELD   AND   TRANSPORT 

reminded  me  of  Birnam  Wood  coming  to  Dunsi- 
nane.  They  could  have  swept  that  hill,  having 
turned  the  left  flank  of  the  defence.  While  we 
were  admiring  this  clever  manoeuvre,  and  every- 
body's eyes  were  turned  to  the  left  flank,  the  other 
battalion  appeared  on  the  opposite,  or  right  flank. 
This  completed  the  discomfiture  of  the  defence. 
The  old  general  said  it  was  one  of  the  best  planned 
and  best  carried  out  manoeuvres  that  he  had  ever 
seen,  and  he  rode  down  to  our  regiment  and  pub- 
licly awarded  it  the  palm. 

They  deserved  it.  They  had  actually  crawled 
on  their  faces  for  over  a  mile  through  the  creek, 
over  the  rocky  ground,  worming  themselves  through 
the  underbrush,  taking  cover  behind  everything  in 
the  most  approved  style.  The  colonel  and  other 
officers  had  taken  part  with  the  rest.  The  officers 
had  even  laid  aside  their  swords  lest  the  gleams 
of  sunlight  reflected  from  them  might  betray  their 
movements.  Almost  everyone  had  worn  the  skin 
off  his  hands  or  arms  or  knees,  and  the  hospital 
list  was  large  the  next  morning. 

I  mention  this  for  two  reasons.  First,  as  show- 
ing the  desire  and  willingness  of  the  officers  and 
men  to  learn  and  to  fit  themselves  in  every  way 
for  the  duties  that  were  to  devolve  upon  them. 
It  is  no  joke  for  a  man  of  more  or  less  sedentary 
habits,  who  weighs  over  two  hundred  pounds,  to 
crawl  over  broken  ground  for  a  mile  or  so  on  a  hot 
August  day — a  statement  anybody  who  fits  the 
conditions  may  verify  by  trying. 

The  second  point  was  the  wonderful  adaptability 


UNDER    TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

of  the  officers  and  men  who  composed  our  volun- 
teer army.  It  was  modern  warfare,  such  as  our 
English  brethren  do  not  seem  to  have  learned  in 
South  Africa,  after  two  years  of  trying.  None  of 
these  men  had  had  any  especial  training  at  this 
sort  of  thing.  They  were  all  city  men  who  had 
never  lived  in  the  country  at  all,  even,  and  yet 
the  aptitude  with  which  they  took  it  up  was  simply 
wonderful. 

We  had  frequent  battle  exercises  with  the  regi- 
ment alone.  The  colonel  would  send  two  or  three 
companies  under  different  officers  at  different  times 
to  defend  a  certain  post,  and  the  rest  were  to 
attack  it.  The  rivalry  between  the  offence  and 
the  defence  was  always  high,  and  sometimes  it  was 
difficult  to  keep  the  men  from  actually  coming  to 
blows! — which  was  not  good  discipline,  by  the 
way,  though  perhaps  excusable  under  the  circum- 
stances. We  had  constant  and  frequent  drills — 
squad,  company,  battalion,  and  regimental.  In- 
deed, the  days  were  filled  to  the  limits. 

There  has  been  much  said  about  the  food.  Let 
me  say  that  it  was  good  in  quality  and  sufficient 
in  quantity.  On  a  very  few  occasions  the  meat 
served  to  the  men  would  be  spoiled,  and  some- 
times, when  it  was  condemned,  the  regiment  would 
go  without  meat  for  the  balance  of  the  day.  Some- 
times the  vegetables  reached  us  in  a  decaying 
condition,  and  canned  goods  were  not  always  above 
suspicion;  but  as  a  rule  everything  was  wholesome 
and  palatable,  and  we  had  plenty. 

It  was  not  luxury,  of  course.  It  was  the  regu- 
170 


FIELD  AND   TRANSPORT 

lar  soldier's  fare,  and  the  man  who  could  not  live 
on  it  would  better  not  attempt  to  be  a  soldier. 
The  bread  was  always  excellent.  The  officers'  mess 
used  the  same  bread  as  the  soldiers  did,  and  it 
was  always  thoroughly  good.  If  there  had  been 
plenty  of  water  to  drink  there  would  not  have 
been  any  hardship  about  the  food  at  all. 

Sometimes  the  routine  of  the  day  would  be 
varied  by  a  march  to  some  particular  point  of 
interest  in  the  vicinity.  The  men  would  parade 
in  heavy  marching  order,  and  when  we  reached 
the  designated  spot  shelter  tents  would  be  pitched, 
fires  kindled,  and  a  regular  encampment  would 
be  made.  One  long  march  we  made  was  to  the 
banks  of  a  little  river,  and  practically  the  whole 
regiment,  as  soon  as  the  camp  was  made,  took 
a  bath.  There  is  but  little  difference  between 
officer  and  man  when  both  are  naked,  I  found. 
Another  march  we  made  was  when  we  broke  camp 
at  Chickamauga,  and  marched  to  the  railroad  train 
to  take  the  cars  to  Knoxville,  our  next  camp.  It 
was  about  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  before  the 
regiment  moved  out.  Save  for  the  dust,  it  was 
not  an  unpleasant  march  over  the  mountain  roads, 
under  the  trees,  by  way  of  Rossville  Gap,  through 
which  had  swept  the  shattered  wing  of  the  Union 
army  in  the  wild  rout  at  Chickamauga  thirty  years 
before. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  station  the  train  was 
not  ready,  and  the  men  were  allowed  to  make 
camp  and  rest.  The  colonel  and  I  wandered  over 
to  a  spring  surrounded  by  great  flat  rocks,  and 

171 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND   TENTS 

I  remember  that  we  lay  down  on  the  rocks,  just 
as  we  were,  and  fell  fast  asleep.  I  have  slept  on 
a  coil  of  rope,  on  a  hard  plank,  on  the  soft  prairie 
grass,  to  say  nothing  of  beds,  but  I  never  imagined 
that  I  could  take  any  rest  in  the  crack  of  a  rock. 
I  did  though,  and  enjoyed  it. 

The  most  original  character  in  the  regiment,  I 
believe,  was  our  hospital  steward,  who  professed 
to  have  held  a  similar  station  in  the  regular  army ; 
and  his  statement  may  have  been  true,  for  he  cer- 
tainly knew  his  business.  Added  to  that,  however, 
was  a  capacity  for  ingenious  fabrication  that  I 
have  never  seen  equalled.  A  fertile  imagination, 
and  apparently  no  conscience  to  speak  of,  made 
him  a  unique  and  interesting  combination.  We 
had  our  suspicions,  of  course,  as  to  the  accuracy 
of  his  representations,  but  we  did  not  discover 
until  later  the  depth  of  his  mendacity.  The  sur- 
geon used  to  call  him  "Major  Big-Talk/'  a  thing 
he  resented  bitterly,  and  it  usually  only  required 
someone  to  say  quietly,  "That's  a  good  yarn, 
Major"  to  take  the  wind  out  of  his  sails;  how- 
ever, they  never  stayed  empty  long. 

The  last  hospital  train  that  was  sent  down  for 
the  sick  men  came  to  the  camp  at  Knoxville. 
There  were  some  men  left  in  the  hospital  at  Chick- 
amauga,  and  the  colonel  sent  me  down  there  with 
a  special  train  to  bring  them  up  to  Knoxville,  so 

that  they  could  go  home  with  the  rest.  S 

went  along  as  medical  adviser,  to  take  charge  of 
the  sick  men.  We  got  only  two,  the  rest  being 
too  ill  to  be  moved.  One  of  the  two  was  very  ill, 

172 


FIELD   AND   TRANSPORT 

but  as  he  was  an  officer,  and  as  he  pleaded  to  be 
taken  back,  saying  he  would  take  all  the  risk,  he 
was  allowed  to  come.  S ,  who  was  as  kind- 
hearted  a  fellow  as  ever  lived,  attended  him  very 
carefully. 

When  we  reached  Knoxville  of  course  the  sur- 
geons of  the  regular  hospital  train  took  charge. 
The  man  who  received  the  officer  from  us,  I  will 
call  Dr.  Leap,  though  that  was  not  his  name. 

However,  it  was  something  like  that.    S turned 

the  officer  over  to  him  without  a  word. 

After  the  regiment  came  back,  and  while  we 
were  waiting  to  be  mustered  out,  the  sickness  I 
had  fought  off  in  camp  came  down  upon  me,  and 
without  the  stimulus  of  duty  to  keep  me  up,  I 
succumbed.  The  regimental  surgeon  attended  me, 

and  when  he  came  to  see  me  one  day  S also 

made  his  appearance.  He  was  attired  in  the  uni- 
form of  a  surgeon  of  the  United  States  Army. 
He  informed  us  that  he  had  been  commissioned 
a  surgeon  in  the  regular  army,  and  would  shortly 
join  his  regiment.  He  amused  my  wife  by  telling 
her  of  some  of  the  experiences  of  the  camp,  and, 
among  other  things,  of  the  special  train  on  which 
he  and  I  had  brought  the  sick  from  Chickamauga. 

"Why,"  he  said,  "those  Hospital  doctors  on 
that  train  were  nearly  crazy  with  excitement! 
Why,"  he  repeated,  turning  to  me,  as  I  lay  ill 
and  weak  upon  the  bed,  "you  remember  what  I 
said  to  that  doctor  who  came  to  get  our  sick  officer, 
Chaplain?" 

"What  was  that?"  I  asked,  faintly. 
173 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

"Why,  I  asked  him  for  his  name,  and  he  said 
'Leap  is  my  name/  'Well,'  said  I,  'Leap  out  of 
here  as  quick  as  you  can,  I'll  attend  to  this  man/ 
You  remember,  don't  you,  Chaplain?" 

I  do  not  know  what  possessed  me  or  why  I  did 
it,  but  I  recall  saying, 

"Yes,  I  remember  perfectly."  I  didn't  remember 
anything  like  that  at  all.  Perhaps  it  was  because 
I  was  so  ill  that  I  agreed  with  him  in  my  aston- 
ishment, but  I  have  never  been  able  to  straighten 
out  the  matter  with  my  conscience  since  then.  He 
was  the  most  compelling  liar  I  ever  assented  to! 
We  found  out  afterward  that  he  had  not  been  ap- 
pointed in  the  regular  army  and  that  he  was  a 
first-class  fraud.  Some  trusting  women,  who  had 
leaned  too  confidingly  upon  his  new  shoulder- 
straps,  found  it  out  also. 

Speaking  of  illness  reminds  me  that  after  I  had 
recovered  somewhat  from  this  camp-fever,  the 
doctor  prescribed  a  sea-voyage  for  me.  The  Gov- 
ernment very  kindly  permitted  me  to  take  the 
round  voyage  to  Porto  Rico  and  Cuba  on  one  of 
the  transports,  the  Berlin,  now  the  Meade.  On 
the  third  day  out,  I  went  down  again.  Everybody 
on  the  ship,  including  two  eminent  army  physi- 
cians, pooh-poohed  my  feeble  attempt  to  describe 
my  illness  as  typhoid  fever,  everybody  said  it  was 
sea-sickness.  If  a  man  breaks  his  leg  on  a  ship, 
you  know,  it  is  "sea-sickness." 

Well,  they  would  not  be  persuaded  that  any- 
thing was  the  matter  with  me  until  we  got  to 
Porto  Rico.  I  struggled  ashore  at  San  Juan  and 

174 


FIELD   AND   TRANSPORT 

walked  through  the  streets  of  that  picturesque  little 
town  in  company  with  the  others  of  the  party  until 
we  reached  Morro  Castle,  where  I  promptly  col- 
lapsed. It  was  evident,  then,  to  everybody,  that 
there  was  no  "sea-sickness"  about  it.  I  was  taken 
back  to  the  ship  and  placed  in  one  of  the  captain's 
spare  cabins — genial  Captain  George  Willson,  his 
kindness  shall  never  be  forgotten — which  perhaps 
proved  my  salvation,  and  there  I  began  a  three 
months'  wrestle  with  the  typhoid  fever. 

It  seems  to  me  that,  outside  of  a  physician, 
nobody  knows  much  more  about  typhoid  fever 
than  I  do.  I  saw  closely,  I  suppose,  three  or  four 
hundred  cases — and  casually  countless  numbers  in 
addition — and  I  had  it  myself.  It  is  not  a  bad 
disease  to  have.  You  get  so  you  do  not  much 
care  about  anything.  Fortunately,  my  wife  was 
with  me  on  the  ship,  and  to  her,  the  captain's 
cabin,  and  the  electric  fan,  I  owe  my  life. 

The  transport  was  delayed  a  long  time  in  San- 
tiago Harbor,  but  I  saw  little  or  nothing.  I  did 
have  a  mirror  arranged  on  the  wall  so  that  when 
the  ship  swung  with  the  tide  I  could  catch  reflected 
glimpses  of  the  harbor.  In  this  way  I  saw  the 
wrecks  of  the  Merrimac  and  the  Reina  Mercedes, 
and  had  a  sight  of  the  grim  Morro  Castle,  as  we 
finally  swept  out  of  the  harbor,  but  that  was  all. 
It  was  so  disappointing  not  to  have  seen  more. 

On  account  of  the  undue  length  of  the  voyage 
all  the  provisions  gave  out.  It  didn't  matter  much 
to  me,  for  I  did  not  take  anything  but  Apolli- 
naris,  a  case  of  which  was  fortunately  found  at 

175 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

Santiago  and  devoted  to  my  use.  When  we  reached 
New  York  everybody  apparently,  except  the  offi- 
cers, immediately  deserted  the  ship.  Had  it  not 
been  for  the  kindness  of  one  of  the  passengers, 
who  went  up  to  the  army  building  and  presented 
my  case  to  the  authorities,  I  might  have  been 
there  yet. 

They  sent  a  tug-boat  down  to  the  steamer.  I 
was  wrapped  up  in  blankets,  for  it  was  late  in 
November,  and  very  cold  by  contrast  with  Cuba, 
laid  on  a  stretcher,  slung  over  the  side  of  the  ship, 
dropped  to  the  deck  of  the  tug  and  landed  at 
Jersey  City.  Eight  sailors  carried  me  in  relays 
into  the  station.  They  laid  the  stretcher  down  in 
the  waiting-room,  while  my  wife  and  friends  went 
off  to  attend  to  the  tickets,  and  get  a  special  car 
with  a  lounge  in  it,  hooked  on  to  the  train. 

I  was  the  object  of  much  interest  to  the  passen- 
gers in  the  station.  Of  course,  I  had  on  my  uni- 
form, and  they  surmised  I  was  a  soldier.  They 
crowded  about  me  as  if  I  had  been  a  freak.  Their 
comments  were  as  frank  as  if  I  had  been  deaf, 
dumb,  or  dead.  They  discussed  my  looks,  the 
nature  of  my  disease,  the  probabilities  of  my  re- 
covery, and  everything  else  in  the  coolest  manner. 
I  am  willing  to  believe  that  their  minds  were  filled 
with  compassion,  but  it  certainly  was  a  dreadful 
exhibition  of  bad  breeding.  I  could  not  speak 
above  a  whisper,  so  it  would  have  been  useless 
to  protest,  and  I  believe  I  was  not  altogether  my- 
self, but  I  can  recall  the  rage  that  filled  my  heart 
at  the  situation. 

176 


FIELD   AND   TRANSPORT 

The  train  had  a  buffet  car,  and  by  the  doctor's 
permission  I  was  given  a  glass  of  milk  with  a 
little  bread.  I  have  seen  Ganymede  now.  In  my 
case  he  was  black — a  Pullman  car  porter!  But 
there  is  no  denying  that  the  stuff  he  brought  me 
was  the  nectar  of  the  gods.  It  was  a  great  relief 
after  three  weeks  of  starvation  and  Apollinaris. 

Through  some  mistake  when  I  reached  Phila- 
delphia the  physicians  and  stretcher-bearers  were 
not  there  to  meet  me.  The  colored  porters  grabbed 
me  by  the  shoulder,  instead  of  lifting  me  up,  and 
dragged  me  through  the  narrow  passage  at  the 
end  of  the  Pullman  car,  and  laid  me  down  on  the 
platform  of  the  Broad  Street  Station.  Fortu- 
nately, the  doctor  and  his  assistants  came,  and 
I  did  at  last  reach  home — in  a  collapsed  state. 

I  did  not  die,  and  I  sometimes  smile  when  I 
see  the  care  that  is  lavished  upon  typhoid  fever 
patients  under  more  favorable  conditions.  A  man 
does  not  know  what  he  can  stand  until  he  tries  it. 
Now,  if  anything,  I  had  a  much  easier  time  with 
my  typhoid  than  almost  any  other  person  who  had 
it  in  the  service.  I  was  better  cared  for,  better 
quartered,  and  better  looked  after  than  thousands 
and  thousands  of  soldiers,  and  I  only  tell  this  that 
people  may  realize  from  my  light  experience  what 
hardships  the  men  in  the  hospitals  had  to  undergo.  ' 

I  was  just  three  months  at  Chickamauga.  Dur- 
ing that  time  the  war  was  finished,  and  our  regi- 
ment was  ordered  home  to  be  mustered  out.  We 
reached  Philadelphia  late  in  the  evening.  It  was 
night  when  we  marched  up  Broad  Street  amid 

177 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND   TENTS 

cheering  thousands,  and  under  a  perfect  blaze  of 
light.  When  I  was  a  naval  cadet  I  marched  in 
a  Presidential  inauguration  parade,  and  various 
organizations  to  which  I  have  belonged  have  been 
loudly  cheered  on  different  public  occasions,  but 
I  never  witnessed  such  an  ovation  as  we  received 
when  we  came  home  that  night.  It  was  good 
for  the  heart,  and,  somehow,  seemed  to  repay 
us  for  all  our  hardships,  sufferings,  and  disap- 
pointments. The  people  had  been  waiting  all  day 
to  see  the  regiment  come  home,  and  if  they  were 
glad  to  see  us,  be  sure  we  were  more  than  glad 
to  see  them  and  home. 

I  think  the  hour  when  I  rode  up  to  the  door  of 
my  home,  dismounted  from  the  back  of  the  faith- 
ful Clifford  and  entered  my  own  house  with  the 
consciousness  that  all  was  safely  over,  and  found 
all  my  dear  ones  well  and  happy,  was  one  of  the 
happiest  in  my  life.  I  did  not  know  of  the  three 
months'  siege  with  fever  preparing  for  me  then, 
mentioned  above,  so  my  joy  was  quite  undimmed. 


PART   THREE 

STORIES   OF  ARMY  AND  NAVY 
LIFE 


STANDING  AND  WAITING 
"They  also  serve  who  only  stand  and  wait" 

IT  was  the  night  we  heard  at  Chickamauga  the 
news  from  Santiago ;  as  calm  and  sweet  a  night 
as  one  ever  saw.  Tattoo  had  just  sounded,  and 
down  on  the  company  streets  we  could  hear  the 
first  sergeants  sharply  calling  their  rolls,  the  re- 
plies of  the  men,  in  voices  of  differing  pitch  and 
many  keys,  making  a  sort  of  vocal  patchwork  in 
the  still  night.  Several  of  the  officers  were  gath- 
ered under  the  broad  fly  of  a  hospital  tent  used 
for  the  colonel's  head-quarters,  when  an  officer 
from  division  head-quarters,  a  surgeon,  I  think, 
came  stumbling  into  the  lighted  circle  from  the 
darkness  outside. 

"General  Poland's  compliments  to  Colonel  Good, 
and  he  directs  me  to  inform  you  that  there  has 
been  a  desperate  battle  at  Santiago,  with  many 
casualties,  but  we  have  captured  forts  at  San  Juan 
and  El  Caney,  and  now  command  the  town." 

We  sprang  to  our  feet  and  cheered  wildly  as  the 
officer  continued: 

"The  general  says  you  may  pass  the  word 
among  the  men,  and  let  them  turn  out.  Yes,  the 
band,  too,"  he  added,  in  response  to  a  query. 

"Orderlies,"  said  the  colonel,  promptly,  and  the 
two  men  needed  no  other  direction,  but  in  an 

181 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

instant  were  running  toward  the  company  streets 
with  the  precious  tidings.  And  then  a  cheer  arose, 
which  grew  in  volume  as  the  news  spread  along 
the  line,  until  the  whole  camp  was  one  continuous 
roar.  The  men  hesitated  in  front  of  their  lines, 
and  then  broke  away  from  the  streets  and  ran  to 
the  open  space  before  the  colonel's  tent,  the  band 
came  hurrying  out,  playing,  frantically,  "The  Star- 
spangled  Banner"  and  "America,"  and  everybody 
sang.  Then,  just  as  they  were  half-dressed,  in 
every  sort  of  a  combination  from  a  jock  strap  to 
a  poncho,  headed  by  the  band,  they  took  up  the 
line  of  march  to  the  division  head-quarters.  By 
this  time  the  whole  division  was  in  an  uproar.  It 
was  almost  as  exciting  as  a  battle,  and  pathetic 
in  its  way.  The  men  had  been  so  eager  to  get  to 
the  front,  they  were  so  anxious  for  action,  they 
entered  so  thoroughly  into  the  joy  of  the  victory, 
clustering  about  General  Poland  and  General 
Rosser,  with  shouts  of, 

"Where  do  we  come  in?" 

"Give  us  a  chance." 

"We'll  show  'em." 

"We'll  follow  you." 

"Oh,  for  our  turn,"  etc. 

Finally,  in  their  enthusiasm,  they  began  picking 
up  the  different  officers,  crying  one  to  another: 

"What's  the  matter  with ?" 

"He's  too  good  for  this  earth." 

"Shoulder  him  then,"  and  up  he  would  go,  the 
men  holding  him,  actually  leaping  and  dancing  in 
time  to  the  music,  blowing  itself  hoarse  between 

182 


STANDING   AND   WAITING 

"Dixie"  and  "Marching  through  Georgia."  I  don't 
know  which  had  the  worst  of  it,  the  tossers  or  the 
tossed!  It  was  long  after  the  usual  hour  for  taps 
when  they  finally  marched  back  to  the  camp  and 
settled  down  for  the  night.  And  that  was  life, 
the  strong  full  life  that  beat  and  throbbed  in  the 
army  and  through  the  camp,  before  they  were 
caught  in  the  withering,  blasting  grasp  of  the 
fever. 

The  beginnings  of  the  fever  were  present  even 
then,  however,  and  that  night  about  two  o'clock 
a  message  called  me  to  the  hospital.  One  of  the 
boys  was  dying,  the  first  one  who  died  in  our  divi- 
sion, perhaps  the  first  in  the  army  corps,  or  at  the 
camp,  the  first  of  a  long  line.  He  had  had  a  long, 
slow  fight  with  the  fever,  and  the  strength  was 
gone  out  of  him.  He  was  lying  on  a  canvas  cot 
in  one  of  the  division  hospital  tents,  covered  with 
an  army  blanket.  Nearly  as  close  as  they  could 
be  placed  together  were  many  other  cots,  each  with 
its  wretched  occupant.  A  flaring,  ill-smelling  oil 
lantern  threw  a  wavering,  uncertain  light  over  the 
scene.  There  was  no  one  there  but  the  doctor, 
the  hospital  attendant,  the  dying  man's  brother,  the 
other  sick  men  and  myself.  There  was  indeed  a 
lack  of  woman's  nursing  and  a  dearth  of  woman's 
tears.  We  stood  and  watched  him  in  silence.  A 
head  lifted  for  a  moment  from  a  cot  here  and 
there,  only  to  fall  helplessly  back  after  a  wild 
glance  toward  the  dying  comrade,  bespoke  the 
deep,  almost  fearful  personal  interest  of  the  other 
men.  The  sick  man  was  unconscious,  though,  at 

183 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

long  intervals,  he  would  rouse  himself  and  mut- 
ter a  few  words.  As  I  bent  to  listen  I  heard  him 
say,  "I  belong  to  the  First  Pennsylvania — I  be- 
long to  the  First  Pennsylvania."  He  said  it  over 
and  over  again  before  he  died.  I  saw  many  of 
them  die;  and,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  without 
exception,  their  thoughts  in  the  delirium  preced- 
ing death  invariably  turned,  not  toward  home,  or 
mother,  or  wife,  or  friends,  but  to  the  regiment, 
the  First  Pennsylvania.  "Don't  take  me  away 
from  the  regiment,"  "I  want  to  go  forward  with 
the  regiment,"  "I  belong  to  the  First  Pennsyl- 
vania," invariably  formed  the  burden  of  their 
thoughts. 

This  particular  boy  didn't  make  any  fuss  about 
dying — for  the  matter  of  that  very  few  of  them 
did.  He  just  drifted  away.  There  would  be  a 
short  catching  breath,  and  a  long  pause,  another 
breath  and  a  longer  pause,  and  so  on  painfully 
and  interminably;  the  gray  dawn  came  stealing 
through  the  open  tent,  the  cool  soft  breeze  of 
morning,  of  breaking  day,  lifted  gently  the  folds 
of  canvas,  and  swept  across  the  fevered  brow,  the 
long  struggle  was  almost  over,  our  vigil  nearing 
its  end,  there  was  the  same  breath,  but  shorter, 
the  same  pause,  but  longer,  and  then  we  waited — 
and  waited  while  the  pause  lengthened  and  re- 
mained unbroken — that  was  all.  Not  amid  the 
roar  of  battle,  not  in  the  wild  excitement  of  the 
charge,  but  there  in  the  camp,  within  the  sicken- 
ing walls  of  the  field  hospital,  in  the  gray  of  the 
morning,  a  young  soldier  had  laid  down  his  life 

184 


STANDING   AND   WAITING 

for  love  of  his  country.  Dead  in  the  line  of  duty 
— dead  on  the  field  of  honor — what  more?  He 
took  his  rightful  place  among  his  brethren  who 
fell  on  the  grassy  slopes  of  San  Juan,  nay  among 
his  elder  brothers,  the  thousands  who,  years  before, 
upon  that  self-same  field,  had  given  a  new  and 
deeper  significance  to  the  old  Indian  named  "River 
of  Death/'  the  bloody  Chickamauga.  All  that  he 
had — his  life — he  had  yielded  up.  What  better 
or  nobler  could  one  give? 

Coincident  with  the  last  breath  of  the  first  sol- 
dier, like  "the  horns  of  Elfland  faintly  blowing," 
from  the  hills  above  us  where  the  head-quarters 
lay,  came  the  first  clear  note  of  reveille.  You 
know  the  rude  rhyme  of  the  soldiers.  With  what 
pathetic  significance  the  words  ran  through  our 
minds  then: 

I  can't  get  'em  up,  I  can't  get  'em  up, 
I  can't  get  'em  up  in  the  morning. 

I  can't  get  'em  up,  I  can't  get  'em  up, 
I  can't  get  'em  up  at  all. 

Often  and  often  had  that  silent  soldier  responded 
to  that  call,  and  even  to-day  it  had  a  message  for 
him.  "Awake,  O  Soldier,"  it  seemed  to  say,  as 
the  bugle  corps  of  one  regiment  after  another 
caught  the  refrain  and  sent  the  chorus  ringing 
through  the  morning — "Awake,  thou  that  sleepest, 
and  arise  from  the  dead,  and  Christ  shall  give 
thee  light." 

And  this,  too,  was  life — but  life  eternal! 


185 


THE   WORST    SOLDIER   OF   THE 
REGIMENT 

THOSE  of  us  who  were  conscious  of  anything 
in  particular  during  the  drowsy  hour  of  rest 
which  usually  follows  morning  battalion  drill  and 
precedes  the  noonday  mess  call,  had  been,  for  some 
time,  vaguely  aware  of  the  music  (save  the  mark!) 
of  a  distant  band,  which  seemed  to  be  coming  in 
our  direction.  However,  since  wandering  bands 
were  continually  promenading  through  the  park 
at  all  hours  of  the  day  and  some  of  the  night, 
no  one  gave  it  a  moment's  thought,  until,  far  down 
on  the  flank  of  the  camp,  some  of  us  saw  a  little 
procession  entering  our  confines  through  the  guard 
line,  when  we  immediately  awoke  to  the  fact  that 
it  was  the  new  band,  which  had  been  recently 
organized  in  Philadelphia,  and  which  had  been 
fondly  expected;  it  was  followed  by  a  large  num- 
ber of  men  just  recruited  to  fill  out  the  quota  of 
the  regiment. 

The  old  regiment  of  the  National  Guard  of 
Pennsylvania  rather  prided  itself  upon  the  high 
character  and  essential  fitness  not  only  of  its  offi- 
cers but  of  the  rank  and  file  as  well,  and  it  must 
be  confessed  that  there  was  much  disappointment 
felt  and  expressed,  among  those  who  thought  that 
four  months  of  service  had  turned  them  into 

1 86 


WORST   SOLDIER   OF  THE   REGIMENT 

veterans,  at  the  character,  or  lack  of  character,  in 
the  last  batch  of  "Rookies"  which  filed  down  in 
front  of  the  men,  through  the  officers'  street,  and 
finally  lined  up  in  front  of  the  head-quarters,  the 
band  blowing  and  beating  itself  hoarse  between 
"El  Capitan"  and  "A  Hot  Time." 

A  dirty,  dusty,  ragged,  tired  lot  of  recruits  they 
were.  The  wild  cheers  with  which  they  were 
greeted  by  the  rest  of  the  men,  who  were  wont  to 
cheer  on  the  slightest  provocation,  had  a  ring  of 
irony  quite  perceptible.  As  one  officer  said,  while 
he  surveyed  this  modern  type  of  FalstafFs  com- 
pany, the  whole  scene  reminded  him  of  that  famous 
entry  so  justly  celebrated  in  the  rhyme  of  our 
childhood,  beginning,  "Hark!  Hark!  The  dogs 
do  bark,  the  beggars  are  coming  to  town!"  Save 
for  the  absence  of  anything  suggesting  a  velvet 
gown,  the  simulacrum  was  perfect.  To  show  how 
erroneous  were  our  first  impressions,  though  it 
does  not  appertain  to  this  story,  I  wish  to  bear 
witness  to  the  fact  that,  after  they  had  been  ham- 
mered into  shape  by  the  powers  that  be,  from  the 
corporals  up,  and,  after  a  lapse  of  many  weeks, 
had  been  provided  with  certain  indispensable  ar- 
ticles of  uniform  by  a  beneficent  but  exceedingly 
dilatory  Government,  they  became  good  soldiers 
and  averaged  very  well  with  the  rest. 

There  were  some,  however,  who  fully  lived  up 
to  the  bad  impression  of  their  first  appearance — 
the  sore-eyed,  the  weak-hearted,  the  chronically 
afflicted,  the  evil-minded,  who  were  either  got  rid 
of  with  more  or  less  promptitude,  or  stayed  to 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND   TENTS 

become  centres  of  unpleasantness  to  long-suffering 
tent-mates  and  thorns  in  the  sides  of  equally  long- 
suffering  officers.  This  is  the  history  of  the  worst 
of  them  all.  I  don't  use  the  word  "worst"  in  the 
sense  of  vicious  or  depraved,  but  rather  to  express, 
as  the  irien  did  themselves,  the  entirely  comprehen- 
sive worthlessness  of  the  man  as  a  soldier.  He 
was  speedily  known  in  that  sense  as  the  "worst 
soldier  of  the  regiment."  Worthless  he  was  in  the 
beginning,  and  worthless  he  remained  until  the 
end.  Yet  he  was  not  too  worthless,  as  I  afterward 
learned,  to  have  gained  a  woman's  love,  and  what 
is  more,  he  kept  it  until  that  same  end.  Nay, 
perhaps  he  has  it  now!  God  knows!  Any  fool, 
as  most  of  us  know,  can  gain  a  woman's  heart, 
but  it  usually  takes  a  man  to  keep  it. 

The  day  after  the  "grand  entry"  it  rained  dis- 
mally and  wretchedly  ^1f  aay  long.  All  except 
necessary  duties  v.ue  suspended;  all  who  could 
do  so  confined  themselves  to  the  poor  shelter  of 
their  leaky  canvas,  and  the  newly  joined  were,  of 
course,  homesick  to  a  man.  During  the  afternoon 
I  was  sitting  alone  under  the  fly  of  my  tent,  look- 
ing out  upon  the  dismal  scene.  The  camp  was 
located  on  a  gentle  slope,  and  the  water  was  run- 
ning in  broad  sheets  over  the  ground.  There  is 
nothing  so  dreary  as  a  camp,  in  a  pouring  rain. 
The  charm  of  life  in  the  open  air,  the  play  of  the 
sunlight  upon  the  white  tents  under  the  trees,  the 
hum  of  busy  life,  the  moving  of  men,  the  shrill 
calling  of  the  bugle,  with  the  flash  of  arms,  all 
disappear,  and  Israel  seeks  its  tents  and  can  only 

1 88 


WORST   SOLDIER   OF  THE   REGIMENT 

wait  while  the  spirit  slowly  deliquesces  in  the 
humid  air. 

I  was  mournfully  thinking  of  home  myself, 
while  listlessly  wondering  whether  or  no  the  rainy 
torrent  would  sweep  over  the  little  embankment 
around  the  tent  and  flood  my  belongings,  when  I 
was  aware  of  the  shuffling  figure  of  a  man,  splash- 
ing and  slopping  through  the  water,  coming  toward 
me.  He  stopped  in  front  of  the  tent  and  leaned 
heavily  upon  the  upright  pole  which  supported  the 
ridge  pole.  He  was  dressed  in  a  very  soiled  pair 
of  cotton  flannel  drawers,  his  feet  were  clad  in 
a  worn-out  pair  of  shoes,  a  blue  shirt  with  one 
sleeve  gone  peeped  out  from  beneath  a  borrowed 
poncho,  and  the  water  dripped  from  a  soggy, 
shapeless  mass  of  dull  brown  felt  which  had  once 
been  a  derby.  He  saluted  awkwardly  with  his 
disengaged  hand,  and  said: 

"Be  you  the  priest,  sir?" 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "I'm  the  chaplain.  Let  go  of 
the  pole  and  stand  up  like  a  soldier."  He  obeyed 
slowly,  staring  at  me  in  an  astonished  way. 

"Now,  if  you  wish  to  speak  to  me,  my  friend, 
come  in  out  of  the  rain,  and  sit  down  on  that  stool 
like  a  man." 

While  he  was  doing  this  I  had  taken  stock  of 
him.  He  was  a  wretched,  abject-looking  specimen 
of  humanity.  His  head  made  a  curve  with  his 
breast,  his  shoulders  with  his  back,  his  back  with 
his  legs,  and,  altogether,  if  one  can  imagine  a 
ripple  with  all  the  beauty  out  of  it  and  nothing 
left  but  "ripple,"  he  might  have  a  vague  .idea  of 

189 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

the  shambling,  loose-jointed  specimen  before  me. 
He  looked  as  though  he  might  run  together  and 
spread  himself  out  on  the  ground  like  the  rain  at 
the  slightest  provocation.  His  backbone  was  as 
sinuous  as  an,  eel's,  without  its  suppleness,  and 
he  shook  like  a  falsetto  quaver.  His  countenance 
was  of  that  shape  commonly  known  as  dish-faced, 
two  of  his  front  teeth  were  gone,  and  his  little, 
lop-sided  mustache  only  served  to  call  attention 
to  a  weak  mouth  and  a  weaker  chin  beneath.  As 
he  looked  at  me  out  of  his  faded  blue  eyes,  from 
which  the  tear  slowly  trickled  down  his  cheeks, 
he  was  so  forlorn  and  miserable  a  being  that  he 
almost  stepped  over  the  narrow  boundary  which 
divides  the  grotesque  from  the  serious,  and  became 
a  tragedy  of  the  commonplace. 

I  opened  the  conversation  myself. 

"What  is  your  name?" 

"Me  name  is  Terence  Flaherty,  sir/' 

"How  old  are  you?" 

"Twenty-one  years  and  ten  months,  sir." 

"Are  those  the  only  clothes  you  have?" 

"Well,  sir,  I  worked  for  a  tea  house  at  home 
and  wore  a  uniform,  and  when  I  came  away  they 
took  it  from  me." 

"Haven't  you  any  others  to  wear  ?" 

"I  had,  sir,  but  they  told  us  to  wear  our  old 
clothes,  and  mine  were  very  old  and  torn,  and  the 
boys  on  the  train  made  way  with  them,  and  the 
man  with  the  stripes " 

"The  sergeant,"  said  I. 
190 


WORST   SOLDIER   OF   THE   REGIMENT 

"Yes,  sir,  him  it  was  that  lent  me  this  gum- 
cloth.  He  told  me  to  see  you,  sir." 

"All  right,"  I  said,  rising,  "I  will  see  if  I  can 
get  you  some  clothes." 

"It  isn't  that,  sir,"  he  said,  quickly,  laying  a 
detaining  hand  on  my  arm.  "I  will  get  along  with 
these  until  I  get  others,  but  I  want  to  go  back 
home.  I've  a  wife  left  with  nothing  but  a  child 
that  is  coming,  and  I  can't  stand  it  to  be  away 
from  her  now." 

"Why  didn't  you  think  of  that  when  you  en- 
listed?" said  I. 

"I  didn't  know  what  I  was  about  then,  sir.  I 
was  that  mad  with  drink  and  rage  that  I  couldn't 
tell  what  I  was  doing  at  all." 

"How  was  that?"  I  asked,  feeling  that  perhaps 
there  was  a  story  behind  it  all.  And  a  poor  little 
miserable  story  it  proved  to  be  when  told — just 
like  the  man  who  told  it. 

"You  see,  sir,  about  seven  months  ago  me  and 
her  run  away  and  got  married.  This  is  her  pic- 
ture, sir."  He  drew  from  some  place  inside  his 
shirt  a  cheap  tintype,  covered  with  a  bit  of  soiled 
cloth,  and,  unwrapping  it,  handed  it  to  me.  I 
couldn't  detect  the  slightest  vestige  of  grace  or 
charm  in  the  commonplace  face  that  stared  up  at 
me  from  out  the  gaudy  paper  frame.  As  I  handed 
it  back  to  him,  he  looked  at  it  in  an  adoring 
way,  and  wiped  away  two  tears,  which  fell  upon 
the  shining  surface,  before  he  replaced  it  in  his 
breast. 

"You  see,  sir,  her  folks  doesn't  like  me.  They 
191 


UNDER    TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

are  well-to-do — the  old  man,  he  keeps  a  saloon — 
so  they  forbid  me  the  house.  But  she  loved  me, 
and,  both  of  us  being  of  age,  we  run  off  and  got 
married;  and,  though  they  wouldn't  speak  to  us, 
we  lived  in  one  room,  and  had  a  pretty  time  until 
we  had  a  quarrel  about — about  nothing  at  all,  sir, 
until  she  said  she  was  going  to  see  her  father  and 
mother  and  try  to  get  friends  again;  and  I  said  it 
was  a  reflection  on  me  and  I  wouldn't  have  it,  and, 
if  she  went  away  in  spite  of  me,  I  would  go  and 
join  the  army;  and  she  said  I  wasn't  man  enough 
to  do  it,  and  said  she  was  going  to  see  her  mother 
anyway.  Well,  sir,  when  I  got  back  from  work 
that  night  she  was  gone,  and  there  was  a  letter 
for  me  saying  she  would  be  back  in  the  morning, 
or  next  day,  perhaps.  Then  I  went  off  and  got  a 
drink  or  two,  and — here  I  am,  sir."  With  that 
he  fairly  put  his  head  down  upon  his  hands  and 
sobbed. 

"Well,  Flaherty,"  said  I,  "I  will  do  what  I  can 
for  you,  but  I  don't  believe  it  will  be  very  much. 
The  thing  for  you  to  do  now  is  to  brace  up  and  be 
a  man.  You're  here,  and  I'm  afraid  you'll  have  to 
stay  here,  but  I  think  it  will  not  be  for  very  long. 
I  believe  this  war  will  be  over  and  we  shall  all  be 
home  in  the  fall  at  the  farthest.  You  bring  me 
your  pay  every  month"  (which  he  faithfully  did — 
his  one  good  trait),  "when  you  get  any,  and  I  will 
send  it  home  to  your  wife,  and  then  we'll  get  the 
National  Relief  Association  to  help  her,  and  we 
will  manage  to  pull  through  somehow  or  other. 
Meanwhile,  I'll  get  you  some  clothes  to  cover  up 

192 


WORST   SOLDIER   OF   THE   REGIMENT 

your  nakedness  until  your  uniform  is  issued,  and 
you  do  your  level  best." 

After  a  little  more  advice  and  consolation  of  a 
similar  nature,  he  sobbed  out  his  thanks,  and, 
promising  to  be  a  man,  shuffled  away  in  the  rain. 
I  saw  the  old  sergeant  of  his  company  shortly 
afterward,  and  spoke  to  him  of  the  boy,  telling 
him  of  the  promise  to  brace  up.  I  may  remark, 
in  passing,  whenever  a  man  in  that  company  be- 
came dirty  and  inefficient  thereafter  the  men  al- 
ways spoke  of  him  as  having  taken  "a  Flaherty 
brace":  so  entirely  barren  of  results  were  Flaher- 
ty's efforts — if  he  made  any — to  improve,  that  his 
"brace"  had  become  a  by-word. 

He  was  a  dead,  flat  failure  at  everything;  not 
vicious,  as  I  have  said,  but  negligent,  careless,  in- 
different, slothful,  and  dirty;  constantly  reported 
for  trivial  offences,  always  wrong  at  drill,  exas- 
perating everyone  who  came  in  contact  with  him, 
and  continually  moaning  to  go  back  to  his  beloved 
Kathleen  and  her  prospective  infant.  When  the 
fever  entered  the  camp  he  was  among  the  first  to 
be  stricken  down,  and  in  the  hospital,  where  most 
of  the  men  bore  the  sufferings  of  the  disease, 
which  were  so  much  enhanced  by  the  dreadful 
conditions  prevalent,  without  repining,  like  the 
heroes  they  were,  and  died  uncomplaining,  Flaherty 
was  speedily  voted  by  the  doctors  and  nurses  the 
worst  patient  there.  Though  he  was  by  no  means 
the  most  severely  attacked,  his  miserable  constitu- 
tion made  the  issue  gravely  problematical. 

Meanwhile,    during   the   two    months   that    had 

193 


UNDER    TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

elapsed  since  his  enlistment,  I  had  received  fre- 
quent letters  from  Kathleen.  It  seemed  that  she 
had  speedily  repented  her  unwifely  disobedience, 
and  had  gone  back  to  her  attic  only  to  find  her 
liege  lord  departed.  Retracing,  with  sudden  ac- 
cess of  loyalty  to  her  husband,  the  first  steps  to- 
ward reconciliation  with  her  parents  which  had 
been  taken,  she  lived  alone  and  waited  only  for 
her  husband's  return,  which  she  besought  the 
colonel  and  almost  every  other  officer  in  the  regi- 
ment speedily  to  effect,  "for  the  love  of  heaven, 
unless  you  wish  me  death  upon  your  hands,  and 
the  child's  too,  for  we  cannot  live  without  him  at 
all."  Some  of  these  letters  are  before  me  now. 

Soiled,  ill-spelt,  badly  expressed  as  they  are, 
there  breathes  through  them  a  genuine  note  of 
human  passion.  It  was  love  and  devotion  beyond 
question,  but  the  woman's  heart  was  plainly  break- 
ing under  the  strain  of  absence.  The  colonel  and 
I  felt  the  deepest  sympathy  for  her,  and  had  tried 
previously  to  have  her  husband  discharged,  but 
somehow  the  matter  failed,  and  the  papers  never 
came.  Meanwhile  Flaherty  grew  steadily  weaker, 
and  Kathleen  went  to  a  hospital  for  her  expected 
confinement.  They  exchanged  daily  letters  through 
a  hospital  nurse  and  myself,  and  the  anxiety  of 
each  for  the  other  was  pitiful  to  see. 

When  the  hospital-train  to  bring  the  sick  back 
home,  where  they  could  get  decent  treatment, 
which  the  good  citizens  of  Philadelphia  had  most 
generously  provided,  reached  Chickamauga,  Fla- 
herty, in  the  opinion  of  the  physicians,  was  too  weak 

194 


WORST   SOLDIER   OF  THE   REGIMENT 

to  stand  the  rough  ambulance  journey  to  the  train. 
In  fact,  they  were  well  assured  that  his  days — nay, 
his  very  hours — were  numbered,  and  that  it  would 
be  useless  to  take  him  away;  but  when  he  learned 
that  it  was  proposed  to  leave  him  behind,  he 
begged  so  hard,  and  his  condition  became  so  bad 
between  excitement  and  disappointment,  that  it  was 
evident  the  results  would  be  worse  if  he  were  left 
than  if  he  were  taken,  and  so  they  gave  a  reluctant 
consent  to  his  departure. 

From  the  moment  that  he  became  so  ill,  the  men 
had  taken  the  deepest  interest  in  his  condition,  and 
the  story  of  his  love-affair,  of  which  he  had  told 
them,  had  awakened  their  intense  sympathy.  Their 
first  inquiry  whenever  I  came  up  from  the  division 
hospital  was,  "How  is  Flaherty,  sir?"  When  they 
heard  that  he  could  not  ride  in  the  ambulance  they 
volunteered  themselves  to  carry  him  through  the 
wood  to  the  station,  a  distance  of  three  miles, 
and  this  is  how  they  managed  it.  Four  men  took 
the  litter;  one  man  carried  a  bucket  of  ice,  from 
which  a  second  continually  bathed  the  sick  man's 
forehead,  or  from  time  to  time  gave  him  a  drink; 
another  held  an  umbrella  over  him,  and  still  an- 
other fanned  him.  Attended  by  a  numerous  body 
of  reliefs,  they  bore  him  under  the  trees  to  the 
train,  and  deposited  him  safely  on  his  cot  in  the 
hospital-car. 

Inasmuch  as  that  was  the  first  hospital-train 
sent  out  by  anyone  during  the  war,  some  account 
of  it  may  be  of  interest.  The  interior  fittings  had 
been  taken  out  of  several  ordinary  day  coaches 

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UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND   TENTS 

and  replaced  by  a  double  row  of  wire  cots,  one  on 
each  side  of  the  car;  the  windows  and  doors  were 
screened,  and  the  cars  vestibuled  with  rope  for 
safety  in  passing.  A  physician  and  two  trained 
nurses  and  two  orderlies  were  detailed  for  each 
car.  The  train  was  made  up  as  follows:  first,  a 
coach  for  convalescents,  three  hospital-cars,  a  bag- 
gage car  filled  with  ice-boxes,  supplies,  and  stor- 
age-tanks, then  four  more  hospital-cars,  followed 
by  a  sleeper  and  combination  hotel-car  for  the  ac- 
commodation of  the  officers,  nurses,  etc.  Every- 
thing, of  course,  was  spotlessly  clean,  and  there 
was  an  abundance  of  supplies  of  all  kinds — for 
instance,  all  the  milk  and  ice  which  could  be  used. 
To  most  of  the  men,  after  the  crowded,  inade- 
quately provided  division  hospital,  the  train  must 
have  seemed  like  heaven,  with  the  white-capped 
nurses  as  angels. 

I  accompanied  the  train  in  my  capacity  as  chap- 
lain, and  when  I  came  to  Flaherty's  cot  on  my 
first  round,  as  the  train  was  speeding  onward 
through  the  night,  I  asked  him  how  he  liked  it, 
and  if  this  were  not  better  than  the  hospital.  He 
replied,  weakly:  "Oh,  it  is  well  enough,  sir,  but 
this  cot  rocks  awful,  and  the  pillow  isn't  comfort- 
able, and  I  am  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  car."  He 
was  plainly  weaker  than  he  had  been,  but  when 
I  tried  to  comfort  him  he  brushed  me  aside  with 
this  remark:  "Well,  sir,  nothing  ain't  anything 
to  me,  and  no  place  is  anywhere  till  I  get  to  see 
Kathleen  again."  When  I  knelt  and  prayed  with 
him  he  seemed  to  listen  attentively,  but  when  I 

196 


WORST   SOLDIER   OF  THE   REGIMENT 

had  finished  he  said:  "Them's  good  prayers,  but 
you  didn't  say  'em  loud  enough,"  and  then  turned 
his  face  to  the  side  of  the  car.  Though  he  had 
promised  to  make  a  last  attempt  to  brace  up,  this 
time  for  Kathleen,  his  success  was  no  better  than 
before. 

With  every  succeeding  hour  he  got  weaker,  and 
finally,  on  the  second  day  out — for  the  train  went 
slowly,  with  frequent  stops  for  rest — he  sank  into 
a  semi-comatose  state,  from  which  he  never  fully 
rallied.  In  his  delirium,  contrary  to  the  almost 
universal  habit  of  the  others  who  had  died,  whose 
last  thought  had  run  mainly  to  the  regiment  of 
which  they  were  a  part,  and  to  which  they  had 
given  their  lives,  he  babbled  only  of  his  wife  and 
the  expected  child.  Indeed,  I  judged  from  what 
Kathleen's  letters  had  predicted  that  the  lamp  of 
life  in  that  poor  little  soul  must  have  already  been 
lighted  while  that  of  the  father  was  flickering 
away. 

On  the  morning  of  the  day  on  which  we  finally 
arrived  at  Philadelphia,  the  train  stopped  for  a 
few  moments  on  a  high  embankment  which  was 
covered  with  passion  vines  in  full  bloom.  I  ran 
from  the  car  and  began  gathering  the  exquisite 
blossoms.  Several  little  indigenous  negro  boys, 
under  the  stimulus  of  a  nickel  each,  vigorously 
aided  me,  and  before  the  train  started  I  had  a 
great  armful  of  the  flowers,  which  I  distributed 
among  the  sick  men  in  the  cars.  The  nurse  and 
the  doctor  were  standing  by  poor  Flaherty's  cot 
when  I  entered  the  car,  and  I  noticed  that,  save 

197 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND    TENTS 

for  the  roar  of  the  train,  it  was  very  still — it  was 
that  silent  tribute  which  even  the  meanest  of  hu- 
manity pays  to  a  brother  when  he  steps  out  into 
the  future.  I  stood  there  with  the  other  two, 
listening  to  the  short  catch  in  the  throat  and  the 
long  pause  following  before  the  next  came,  which 
had  become  so  sadly  familiar.  Then  I  knelt  down 
and  laid  the  passion  flowers  upon  his  breast,  over 
the  thin  wasted  hands,  and  began  to  repeat  the 
words  of  Jesus  where  He  says: 

"Our  Father  who  art  in  heaven;  hallowed  be 
Thy" — the  boy  was  saying  something!  I  stopped 
— listened — there  was  a  struggle,  a  little  choking 
sound — a  whispered  word,  "Kathleen."  That  was 
all.  And  lo !  the  worst  soldier  in  the  regiment  had 
died — even  as  the  best! 

How  run  the  words  of  the  broken  prayer  ?  "Thy 
will  be  done,"  and  so  on,  while  the  train  sped 
swiftly  forward  through  the  glorious  morning, 
homeward  bound.  We  dressed  him  in  his  uniform 
and  laid  him  on  a  cot  in  the  baggage-car,  and 
covered  him  with  the  flag,  with  the  passion  flowers 
still  about  his  folded  hands.  There  was  a  sort  of 
dignity  in  the  plain,  weak  face,  and  when  I  looked 
upon  it  ere  I  covered  it  over,  and  thought  of  the 
master  passion  of  his  useless,  wasted  life,  for  the 
first  time  I  respected,  nay,  I  almost  loved  him. 
That  evening  when  the  train  reached  Philadelphia, 
after  my  duties  had  been  performed,  I  took  a  cab 
and  with  a  heavy  heart  drove  to  the  hospital  to 
tell  Kathleen.  Admitted  there  after  some  delay, 
I  disclosed  my  errand  to  the  superintendent. 

198 


WORST   SOLDIER   OF   THE  REGIMENT 

"You  must  not  tell  her  that  he  is  dead,"  said 
the  physician.  "The  baby  came  this  morning  and 
she  is  about  gone  now.  She  has  been  crazy  to 
see  her  husband,  though,  and  if  you  could  recon- 
cile your  conscience  to  bring  her  some  message, 
or "  he  hesitated  and  looked  at  me  anxiously. 

"I  can,"  I  said,  promptly,  "and  I  will.  I  think 
I  understand  exactly  what  you  want.  Where  is 
she?" 

"Thank  you,"  he  said,  simply ;  "come  this  way." 

We  entered  a  room  of  the  hospital.  Was  I 
never  to  get  away  from  hospitals  in  the  army?  I 
wondered. 

"This  is  she,"  said  the  doctor,  pointing  to  a  bed 
by  the  window.  There  lay  the  original  of  the 
picture  I  had  seen.  I  have  that  picture  now,  and 
I  like  to  look  upon  it;  it  has  a  charm  which  it 
never  had  before.  The  doctor  spoke  to  her  ten- 
derly, partially  rousing  her  from  the  stupor  in 
which  she  lay.  From  a  cot  beside  her  came  the 
feeble  cry  of  new-born  life. 

"Kathleen,"  he  said,  "here  is  the  chaplain  of 
your  husband's  regiment." 

She  looked  at  me  vacantly. 

"Chaplain  Brady,"  I  said,  distinctly,  bending 
toward  her.  Her  eyes  brightened  at  once. 

"My  husband?"  she  said,  in  a  whisper.  "Where 
is  he?" 

"It  is  well  with  him,"  I  answered  slowly,  lay- 
ing my  hand  upon  her  head,  softly.  "You  will 
see  him  in  a  little  while  now,  and  he  sends  you 
these."  As  I  spoke,  I  laid  upon  her  breast  some 

199 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

of  the  passion  flowers  of  the  Southland,  which  I 
had  taken  from  over  the  still  heart  under  the  flag. 
A  faint  little  smile  flickered  across  her  pale  face 
as  she  clasped  the  flowers  in  her  hand  and  by  a 
great  effort  carried  them  to  her  lips. 

"Terence!"  she  whispered,  and  then  upon  her 
fell  that  eternal  stillness  in  which  breaks  the  eter- 
nal day. 

Terence  and  Kathleen  were  together  again ! 


200 


HOW   THE   FIRST    PENNSYLVANIA 
CHARGED   UP    SAN   JUAN    HILL 

ONE  of  the  features  of  the  work  of  a  chaplain 
in  the  volunteer  army  lay  in  the  attention  ex- 
acted from  him  by  the  great  numbers  of  letters  of 
all  sorts  which  he  received.  They  came  from  dot- 
ing fathers,  fond  mothers,  affectionate  sisters,  and 
despairing  sweethearts;  sometimes  also  from  the 
ever-present  bill  collector,  whom  not  even  wars  and 
rumors  of  wars  could  daunt;  with  inquiries,  re- 
quests, directions,  appeals,  regarding  the  welfare, 
whereabouts,  debts,  and  other  conditions  of  the 
different  men  in  the  regiment. 

Sometimes  the  letters  were  sad,  and  sometimes 
they  were  gay,  sometimes  well  written,  sometimes 
ill-done,  sometimes  blotted  with  tears,  and  between 
the  lines  telling  dreary  little  stories  of  poverty, 
anxiety,  and  breaking  hearts. 

The  one  that  seemed  the  saddest  of  all  these 
letters  to  me  concerned  Nichols.  "Dear  Sir'*  (it 
read),  "you  are  the  minister  of  the  army"  (which 
I  was  not,  only  of  one  regiment  of  it,  of  course), 
"and  I  have  took  the  liberty  of  writing  to  you. 
Tell  Jim  Nichols  that  his  wife  has  run  off  with 
another  man,  Pete  O'Donnell,  and  she  left  this 
letter  for  him  which  I  inclose.  She  owes  me  two 
weeks'  board,  which  is  five  dollars,  which  I  wish 
you  would  get  him  to  send  to  me.  I  am  a  poor 

20 1 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

woman  and  can't  afford  to  lose  it.  Please  tell  Jim 
I  am  sorry  for  him." 

If  the  envelope  had  contained  a  snake  which  had 
bitten  me  when  I  had  opened  it,  I  could  not  have 
been  more  shocked  than  I  was  when  I  saw  this 
wretched  story  staring  from  the  white  page  in  the 
morning  sunlight.  Everybody  knew  and  liked  "the 
old  Nick,"  as  he  was  sportively  called,  the  liveliest, 
jolliest,  and  most  cheerful  boy  of  the  thousand  who 
made  up  our  quota;  into  every  sort  of  fun  that 
was  going  on,  and  sometimes  getting  into  trouble 
in  consequence  thereof,  but  a  well-drilled,  well-set- 
up, soldierly  fellow,  whom  his  officers  secretly 
admired  even  when  they  were  called  upon  to  ad- 
minister a  reprimand  to  him;  always  willing  for 
any  duty,  and  never  growling  and  kicking  at  the 
hard  conditions  under  which  soldiering  was  done 
in  that  army. 

He  was  wildly  attached  to  his  pretty,  foolish, 
shallow-pated  little  wife,  of  whose  charms  he 
prated  so  continually  to  everybody,  that  the  whole 
regiment  knew  of  his  devotion  to  her,  though  no 
man  ever  dared  to  speak  lightly  of  it,  or  her,  unless 
he  was  prepared  to  take  a  most  tremendous  thrash- 
ing, for  Nichols  was  most  apt  to  teach,  by  practical 
exemplification,  the  noble  art  of  self-defence  to  all 
and  sundry. 

He  used  to  read  to  me  her  poor,  selfish  little 
letters.  He  just  had  to  confide  in  somebody,  you 
see,  and  the  chaplain  was  the  natural  receptacle 
of  his  confidence.  He  and  I  were  exceedingly  good 
friends,  and  we  sometimes  used  to  go  away  from 

202 


UP   SAN  JUAN   HILL 

the  camp  and  wander  out  into  the  wood,  especially 
on  Sunday  afternoons,  where  he  would  talk  to  me 
by  the  hour  of  the  perfections  of  his  Dulcinea; 
which  was  evidently  a  great  comfort  to  him,  though, 
of  course,  rather  burdensome  to  me;  and  this  was 
now  the  end  of  it  all,  I  thought,  as  I  wondered  how 
I  should  best  approach  him  with  the  news. 

Mail  was  distributed  just  before  mess  call,  and 
I  saw  him  down  in  his  company  street,  which  hap- 
pened to  be  in  front  of  my  tent,  skylarking  gayly 
with  some  of  the  men.  After  dinner  I  strolled 
down  to  his  tent  and  invited  him  to  take  a  short 
walk  with  me  before  afternoon  drill  call  sounded. 
We  went  off  to  a  quiet  part  of  the  wood  on  the 
flank  of  the  camp,  and  in  a  sunny  little  hollow, 
secluded  from  the  eyes  of  the  curious  who  might 
happen  to  be  watching,  we  stopped,  and  I  began 
the  story. 

"Nichols,"  I  said,  "you  are  a  man  and  a  soldier, 
but  you  need  all  the  pluck  and  courage  that  you 
have  now,  for  I  have  bad  news  for  you,  my  boy." 

I  could  see  his  face  pale  under  his  black  curly 
hair,  but  I  had  spoken  truly  when  I  said  he  was 
a  man  of  courage,  and  he  stopped  walking  and 
stood  erect  as  if  to  brace  himself  for  the  shock. 

"Is  it  about  Ellie?  For  God's  sake,  Chaplain, 
is  anything  the  matter  with  her?  Have  you  got 
any  news?"  he  said,  in  wild  anxiety,  yet  striving 
to  control  himself. 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "bad  news." 

"Is  she  sick,  sir?  Quick,  don't  keep  me  waitin'. 
She's  not  dead,  is  she?" 

203 


UNDER    TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

"Not  dead,  Jim;  I  wish  to  heaven  she  were/'  I 
rapped  out  unthinkingly. 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  he  cried,  stepping  forward 
menacingly.  "She's  not  sick?" 

"No."  " 

"Nor  dead?" 

"No." 

"What,  then?" 

"Dishonored,"  I  said,  quietly. 

"Damn  you,"  said  Jim,  clutching  my  shoulder — 
I  can  feel  the  force  of  the  grasp  yet — "if  you  wasn't 
a  preacher,  I'd  kill  you  where  you  stand.  As  'tis, 
officer  or  no  officer,  I'll  give  you  the  worst  lickin' 
you  ever  got  in  your  life  if  you  don't  unsay  them 
words,  so  help  me  God.  No  man's  goin'  to  say  that 
about  my  wife  and  me  not  resent  it,  if  it's  the 
general  of  the  army  himself.  D'ye  hear?"  he 
continued. 

"Hands  off,  my  lad,"  I  said,  "I'm  awfully  sorry 
for  you,  but  I  have  it  in  a  letter  here." 

"Whose  letter?" 

"Mrs.  Jones's,  your  wife's  landlady,"  I  answered. 

"Do  you  think  I'd  believe  Mrs.  Jones  or  her 
letters  or  the  letters  of  the  whole  world  against 
my  wife?"  The  man  was  magnificent  in  his  faith. 
I  would  have  given  worlds  to  have  left  him  in  his 
sublime  belief,  but  duty  would  not  permit  me. 

"Perhaps  you  would  believe  her  own  letter,  Jim," 
said  I,  handing  him  the  note  which  Mrs.  Jones  had 
enclosed.  He  had  taken  his  hand  from  my  shoulder 
now,  and  as  I  handed  him  his  wife's  letter,  he  tore 
it  open  frantically,  and  a  glance  sufficed  to  put  him 

204 


UP  SAN  JUAN   HILL 

in  possession  of  the  brief  contents  which  confirmed 
the  terrible  facts. 

"Dear  Jim"  (it  read),  "I  got  so  lonesome,  you 
was  so  far  away,  and  I  didn't  have  no  money,  and 
so  I  have  gone  away  with — well,  with  another  man. 
Please  forgive  me.  I  am  awfully  sorry  for  you. 
I  guess  you  won't  care  much  after  awhile  about 
such  a  no-account  girl  as  me." 

He  put  his  hand  to  his  head  in  a  dazed  way,  and 
handing  me  the  letter,  bade  me  read  it.  While  I 
glanced  over  it,  I  slipped  my  arm  about  him  as 
he  stood  there,  whiter  than  before,  trembling  in 
the  sunlight.  He  had  the  instincts  of  a  gentleman, 
had  that  rude  soldier,  however,  and  his  first  broken 
words  were  to  me. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Chaplain,  for  what  I  said 
a  minute  ago." 

"That's  all  right,  Jim,"  I  answered,  "your  anger 
did  you  honor.  This  is  awfully  hard  on  you.  I  wish 
I  could  help  you  in  some  way." 

"To  think  of  it,"  he  answered,  brokenly,  "here 
I  am  down  here,  givin'  up  my  good  position  to  serve 
my  country,  and  sendin'  her  every  cent  of  money 
I  draw — you  know,  Doctor,  I  only  kept  back  one 
dollar  for  myself  from  my  pay  last  month,  because 
you  sent  it  yourself,  and  I've  loved  her,  and  bragged 
about  her,  and  dreamed  about  her,  and  trusted  her 
— my  God,  I'll  never  trust  anybody  or  anything 
again.  Curse  her!"  he  shook  his  fist  up  at  the 
heavens  above  him.  "May  she  know  what  it  is  to 
trust  and  be  deceived  like  this,  to  love  and  be 
broken!" 

205 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

I  thought  he  was  going  to  have  a  fit;  but  as  I 
laid  my  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  begging  him  to 
play  the  man,  his  thoughts  ran  in  another  direction. 

"Oh,"  he  cried,  "what  have  I  said?  Wherever 
she  is,  wherever  she  goes,  whatever  she  does,  I  love 
her,  and  I'll  love  her  to  the  end.  I  am  a  damn  fool, 
that's  what  I  am." 

All  the  afternoon  we  walked  up  and  down  to- 
gether. It  was  a  frightful  period.  The  man  was 
torn  to  pieces  between  rage  and  despair  and  pas- 
sionate devotion;  he  raved,  he  sobbed,  he  cried,  he 
even  prayed.  There  would  be  a  bad  time  for  the 
man  who  had  ruined  his  life  if  he  ever  came  across 
his  path,  I  thought. 

I  succeeded  in  getting  him  somewhat  quiet 
toward  evening,  and  we  walked  back  to  the  camp, 
where  I  gave  his  company  officers  such  excuses, 
on  the  plea  of  bad  news  from  home,  as  would 
suffice  to  insure  his  escape  from  punishment  for 
failure  to  attend  to  his  drills  and  duties  that  after- 
noon. 

The  next  morning  when  I  went  to  his  tent  to 
seek  him  he  was  gone.  He  turned  up  that  night 
raging  drunk,  and  as  quarrelsome  in  his  cups  as 
he  had  been  cheerful  in  his  senses.  He  fought  his 
best  friend,  and,  in  the  uproar  created,  was  promptly 
arrested.  I  found  him  sullen  and  dogged  in  the 
guard-tent  the  next  morning,  and  he  turned  a  deaf 
ear  to  all  my  entreaties  that  he  should  brace  up  and 
be  a  man  again.  He  said  he  had  been  treated  like 
a  dog,  and  a  dog  he  was,  and  a  dog  he  would  be. 

I  had  an  abiding  faith  in  the  poor  man,  however, 
206 


UP  SAN  JUAN   HILL 

and  made  such  representations  and  told  enough  of 
the  story  to  the  colonel  as  sufficed  to  make  that 
usually  stern  disciplinarian  relax  a  little  in  this 
instance,  and,  after  being  severely  reprimanded, 
Nichols  was  restored  to  duty. 

But  it  was  of  no  use,  the  man  seemed  to  be  irre- 
trievably ruined.  Whenever  he  got  a  chance,  he 
got  drunk,  and  when  he  got  drunk,  he  got  ugly. 
Indeed,  when  not  in  his  cups,  the  betrayal  rankled 
in  his  soul,  and,  brooding  upon  his  wrongs,  had 
turned  him  into  a  sullen,  morose,  savage  animal. 
From  the  most  popular  man,  he  finally  became  the 
most  disliked  man  in  the  regiment,  and,  with  the 
unthinking  cruelty  of  the  multitude,  the  dislike  gave 
rise  to  a  process  of  baiting  by  different  individuals 
who  sought  safety  in  the  numbers  engaged  in  the 
game.  It  was  about  as  safe  to  bait  the  man  in  his 
present  condition  as  it  would  be  to  bait  a  loose 
grizzly  bear. 

I  had  several  times  interfered  in  the  process  in 
the  very  nick  of  time  to  prevent  serious  conse- 
quences, for  I  had  kept  close  watch  upon  him,  and 
I  had  about  made  up  my  mind,  seeing  that  my  hopes 
for  a  cessation  of  the  teasings  were  more  or  less 
fruitless,  to  appeal  to  the  colonel  to  have  it  stopped, 
when  one  of  the  foremost  of  his  tormentors,  who 
had  unfortunately  that  morning  received  from  a 
common  acquaintance  at  home  a  version  of  Mrs. 
Nichols'  disgraceful  action,  threw  it  into  Jim's  face 
in  a  particularly  insulting  way  in  the  presence  of 
a  crowd  of  men. 

When  I  broke  through  the  crowd  in  the  street, 
207 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

a  moment  after,  the  man  was  lying  senseless  on  the 
ground.  At  first  I  thought  he  was  dead.  Nichols 
had  picked  him  up  in  the  air  bodily,  and  had  thrown 
him  from  him  as  if  he  had  been  a  child.  His  head 
was  cut  frightfully,  his  arm  was  twisted  underneath 
his  body  and  broken,  and  the  doctor  said  the  con- 
sequences might  be  serious.  Of  course,  poor  Nichols 
was  immediately  arrested,  charges  at  once  being 
preferred. 

I  felt  it  would  go  hard  with  him  this  time,  on 
account  of  his  previous  bad  record,  in  spite  of  the 
extenuating  circumstances,  about  which  the  men 
who  were  present  had  told  me.  I  determined, 
however,  to  do  what  I  could  for  him,  but  that  night 
he  escaped.  In  some  way,  we  never  knew  how,  he 
got  rid  of  the  irons  on  his  hands  and  feet,  cut  a 
hole  in  the  guard-tent,  knocked  over  a  sentry,  and 
disappeared,  and  that  was  the  last  we  saw  of  him. 
He  was  not  re-captured,  though  the  limits  of  the 
camp  and  the  surrounding  country  were  scoured 
the  next  day. 

When  the  regiment  came  home  in  September  to 
be  mustered  out,  I  found  a  letter  in  my  office  from 
one  of  the  surgeons  at  Camp  Wikoff  to  the  effect 
that  there  was  a  man  dying  in  the  camp  hospital 
from  fever,  who  was  continually  asking  for  me. 
Would  I  come  up  and  see  him?  The  man's  papers 
showed  that  his  name  was  John  Nelson,  and  that 
he  belonged  to  a  New  York  regiment,  but  in  the 
ravings  of  the  fever  he  continually  spoke  of  himself 
as  Jim  Nichols,  and  claimed  to  be  a  private  of  the 
First  Pennsylvania. 

208 


UP   SAN  JUAN   HILL 

I  went  up  to  him  at  once,  of  course.  Sure  enough, 
it  was  Jim.  He  had  been  shot  through  the  body 
before  Santiago,  and,  as  he  was  recovering  from 
his  wound,  had  taken  the  fever.  I  arrived  at  the 
camp  hospital  just  in  time  to  see  him  die.  He  was 
almost  gone  when  I  reached  his  bedside.  When 
I  spoke  to  him,  he  opened  his  eyes,  and  finally 
recognized  me. 

"Chaplain,"  he  said,  thickly,  "it's  all  right,  I  am 
glad  to  go — I  done  my  duty  for  the  honor  of  the 
First  Pennsylvania,  thank  God.  Tell  her — I  forgive 
her— Ellie." 

I  nodded  acquiescence,  and  knelt  by  his  side,  but 
the  sound  of  his  own  words  of  forgiveness  was  the 
last  thing  he  ever  heard  in  this  world.  From  some 
of  the  dead  man's  companions  in  the  New  York 
regiment,  and  some  of  the  black  men  of  the  regular 
cavalry,  whom  I  hunted  up,  I  learned  later  what 
had  happened  to  him.  After  he  deserted  us  he  went; 
down  to  Tampa,  and,  I  suppose,  he  realized  on  the- 
way  what  he  had  done,  and  resolved  to  turn  over 
a  new  leaf. 

When  he  learned  that  the  New  Yorkers  were 
going  to  Santiago,  he  enlisted  in  their  regiment. 
In  the  hurry  and  confusion  of  embarkation  they 
were  in  no  way  particular  in  their  questions,  and 
he  got  on  the  rolls  without  difficulty.  He  had 
stopped  his  drinking,  perhaps,  only  because  he  had 
no  more  money,  and,  though  he  had  not  regained 
his  cheerfulness,  he  went  about  his  duties  with  a. 
quiet  attention  which  elicited  favorable  comment: 
from  his  officers.  On  the  morning  the  regiment 

209 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

went  out  with  the  others  of  Kent's  division  to  storm 
San  Juan  Hill,  he  was  in  the  color  guard. 

We  all  know  how  disgracefully  the  greater  part 
of  that  regiment  behaved  on  that  occasion,  chiefly, 
I  presume,  I  may  say  wholly,  on  account  of  the 
pusillanimous  conduct  of  many  of  its  officers.  At 
any  rate,  while  they  were  lying  jn  the  long  grass, 
liugging  the  earth,  afraid  to  go  forward  in  the  face 
of  the  withering  fire  poured  upon  them  from  the 
Spanish  Mausers,  and  unable  to  go  back,  some  of 
them,  to  the  credit  of  the  regiment  be  it  spoken, 
and  for  the  honor  of  their  State,  did  not  give  way 
to  the  prevalent  fear,  and  chafed  bitterly  at  their 
situation,  and  when  the  black  men  of  the  Tenth 
Regular  Cavalry  came  swarming  over  them  it  was 
more  than  Nichols,  for  one,  could  stand. 

"By  heaven !"  he  shouted,  leaping  to  his  feet  and 
seizing  the  colors,  "I  won't  stay  here  with  a  lot  of 
worthless  cowards  to  be  trampled  upon  and  shot 
to  death.  I'm  goin'  up  the  hill;  who'll  go  along? 
T  belong  to  the  First  Pennsylvania,  anyhow?" 

Perhaps  a  hundred  or  two  hundred  soldiers  from 
the  regiment  sprang  to  their  feet  at  the  same  time, 
and,  led  by  several  officers  of  more  courage  than 
the  others,  they  joined  the  mad  rush  up  the  bullet- 
swept  hill.  Just  as  they  reached  the  crest,  Jim,  who 
had  been  gallantly  leading  the  charge,  was  shot 
through  the  body.  He  fell  near  a  regular  of  the 
Sixth  Cavalry,  who  was  desperately  wounded, 
•  dying,  in  fact. 

A  wounded  sergeant  of  the  Tenth  lay  near  the 
;two,  and  he  told  me  of  the  colloquy  that  followed. 

210 


UP   SAN  JUAN   HILL 

The  white  regular  was  moaning  for  water ;  it  seemed 
that  Jim's  canteen  happened  to  be  full  of  the  precious 
fluid. 

"I  can't  stand  this,"  he  said  to  his  black  friend, 
"I've  got  to  crawl  over  and  give  that  man  a  drink 
if  it  kills  me." 

Slowly  and  painfully  he  dragged  himself  through 
the  thick  coarse  grass  and  made  his  way  over  to 
the  soldier,  still  moaning  piteously  for  water. 

"When  he  come  near  enough  to  see  his  face," 
said  the  black  man  who  told  the  tale,  "he  drop* 
his  canteen  an'  he  say,  'Gord  A'mighty,  it's  you, 
is  it,  you  black-hearted  devil !  Where's  Ellie  ?'  An' 
the  other  man,  he  say,  'She  done  lef  me,  as  she 
lef  you  in  Philadelphia.'  Then  Jim  say,  What  are 
you  a  doin'  here  ?'  An'  he  answer,  'Just  dyin',  Jim, 
that's  all;  you're  too  late,  you  can't  do  nothin'  to 
me  now.  Water,  for  God's  sake,  if  you  have  any, 
gimme  a  drop.'  An'  then  he  say,  'May  I  be  damned 
eternally  if  I'd  give  you  a  drop  if  I  had  a  whole 
river  in  my  hand;'  an'  presently  he  raise  up  on  his 
elbow  an'  he  look  at  him,  slow  like,  and  after  a 
minute  he  up  an'  shove  the  nozzle  of  the  canteen 
to  his  mouth,  an'  then  he  say,  'Drink,  damn  ye/ 
an'  then  he  fell  down  with  his  head  on  the  other 
man's  breast.  I  thought  they  were  both  dead — the 
other  man  was  dead,  but  Jim  didn't  die  then." 

After  the  battle  he  partially  recovered  from 
his  wound,  and  then  took  the  fever  in  his  weak- 
ness and  died  at  Montauk.  I  saw  him  buried 
properly  and  went  back  to  my  missionary  work 
in  Philadelphia. 

211 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

Late  one  cold,  rainy,  winter  night  a  few  months 
after  this  I  had  been  visiting  one  of  our  mission 
stations,  a  rescue  mission,  which  we  kept  open  all 
night.  I  came  down  a  lonely  street  in  the  very 
worst  quarter  of  the  town,  and  turning  a  corner 
ran  across  a  woman  drunk  and  baited  by  half  a 
dozen  loafers.  She  was  trembling  with  cold  and 
terror,  and  with  the  assistance  of  an  opportune 
policeman  she  was  easily  rescued  from  her  tor- 
mentors. She  sank  down  on  a  doorstep  at  our 
feet,  a  limp,  ragged,  dirty,  wretched  scrap  of 
humanity,  the  lowest  of  the  low. 

"Shall  I  run  her  in?"  asked  the  policeman.  "I 
reckon  the  station-house  is  the  best  place  for  the 
likes  of  her." 

"No,"  I  said  to  the  officer,  whom  I  knew  slightly, 
"I  will  take  care  of  her." 

"What  are  you  goin'  to  do  with  her,  Parson?" 
asked  the  man,  curiously. 

"I  will  take  her  down  to  the  Crittenton  Home, 
if  she  will  go." 

"She'll  go  fast  enough,  I  reckon;  she's  got  no 
place  else  to  go,  have  you?"  said  the  officer. 

"No,  I  ain't,  and  I'll  go  anywhere  to  get  out 
of  this  cold  and  wet,"  she  replied,  sullenly. 

I  assisted  her  to  her  feet,  and  then  took  her  by 
the  arm  to  guide  and  help  her,  and  we  walked 
toward  the  home.  I  could  see  that  she  had  cer- 
tainly once  been  pretty.  She  bluntly  refused  to 
talk  to  me,  and  we  walked  on  in  silence  till  we 
reached  the  place,  which  was  near  by.  When 

212 


UP  SAN  JUAN   HILL 

I  had  seen  her  safely  housed  in  the  care  of  the 
matron,  I  asked  her  her  name. 

"Ellen,"  she  said,  sullenly. 

"Ellen  what?"  I  asked. 

"What's  that  to  you,  I'd  like  to  know?"  she 
asked,  suspiciously. 

Now,  I  have  not  the  slightest  idea  why  I  said 
what  I  did  just  then,  but  the  fact  remains  that 
I  did  say: 

"Is  your  name  Ellen  Nichols?" 

The  woman  shrank  back  as  if  she  had  been 
struck.  The  question  seemed  to  sober  her  at  once. 

"How  did  you  know  that?"  she  gasped. 

"I  did  not  know  it,  I  only  guessed  it,"  I  an- 
swered. "I  knew  your  husband." 

"Oh,  God,  I  ain't  seen  a  happy  day  nor  drawed 
a  happy  breath  since  I  left  him.  Look  at  me," 
she  added,  lifting  up  her  rags,  and  thrusting  her 
painted  face  into  mine,  "look  at  me,  is  there  any- 
thing lower?" 

Sister  Caroline,  the  matron,  took  her  in  her  arms 
protectingly. 

"Let  me  alone!"  she  shrieked,  "I  want  to  know 
where  Jim  is.  Is  he  well?  I  wonder  if  I  could 
see  him?  I  suppose  he'd  kill  me,  though.  I  wish 
to  God  he  would — "  but  she  shuddered  and  shrank 
back  as  if  from  her  own  words. 

"You  won't  see  him  any  more,  Ellen,"  I  said 
softly,  "you  need  not  be  afraid  of  him  now — he 
is  dead."  She  stared  at  me  blankly.  "He  loved 
you  to  the  end,  and  with  his  last  breath,  almost, 

213 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

asked  me  to  tell  you  that  he  forgave  you — and 
may  God  do  the  same." 

She  fainted  then,  and  I  left  her  and  came  away 
sick  at  heart.  The  next  morning  I  went  around 
to  see  her  again.  She  was  gone.  The  next  day 
after  that,  when  I  came  down  to  my  office,  the 
big  policeman  was  waiting  for  me. 

"We  want  you  to  go  to  the  morgue,  Chaplain; 
we  think  there's  a  body  there  you  can  identify." 

"Who  is  it?"  I  asked. 

"We  don't  surely  know,  but  we  have  an  idea 
that  you  will;  it's  a  suicide,  I  guess." 

"All  right,  I  will  be  over  directly,"  I  answered. 
When  I  entered  the  dreary  building  another  officer 
met  me  at  the  door  and  took  me  into  the  room. 

"We  picked  this  thing  up  out  of  the  Delaware 
this  morning,"  he  said,  drawing  the  cover  from 
the  sodden  face,  and  there  was  all  that  remained 
of  Ellen. 

"Oh,  frailty,  thy  name  is  woman!" 


214 


THE   INDECISION    OF   MABEL 

A  Story  of  the  Wreck  of  the  U.  S.  Steamship 
Huron 

FRANK  POWELL  and  George  Tyler  were 
class-mates  and  room-mates  at  the  Naval 
Academy,  and  they  loved  each  other  like  Damon 
and  Pythias.  In  a  certain  sense  they  were  rivals 
in  studies.  Frank  was  a  leading  competitor  for  the 
first  position  in  his  class,  while  George  was  fit- 
fully striving  to  escape  the  lowest  rank  in  scholar- 
ship. He  used  to  say  that  looking  at  the  class; 
from  a  circular  point  of  view  they  were  side  by 
side.  The  authorities,  however,  took  a  linear  view 
of  the  situation.  This  sort  of  rivalry  in  scholar- 
ship was  not  very  fierce,  but  when  Mabel  Abbott 
was  considered,  the  strife  was  bitter. 

Mabel  Abbott  was  the  daughter  of  the  comman- 
dant of  cadets.  Powell  had  happened  to  see  her 
the  first  day  he  had  arrived  at  the  Academy  from 
the  plains  of  Kansas,  and  had  worshipped  her  from 
afar  during  his  first  year  of  service.  Being  a 
"plebe,"  that  is,  a  fourth-class  man,  he  could  aspire 
to  no  social  life  whatever,  but  so  soon  as  he  had1 
entered  upon  his  third-class  year,  and  had  escaped 
from  the  thraldom  and  servitude  of  nursling  days, 
he  proceeded  to  make  her  acquaintance,  and  for 
the  three  remaining  years  of  his  course  had  paid 

215 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

her  all  the  attention  allowed  by  the  severe  regu- 
lations circumscribing  social  intercourse. 

Tyler  had  gone  through  a  similar  experience. 
\  He  was  from  an  old  Virginia  family  and  possessed 
'*  every  social  grace  the  other  man  lacked.  Though 
his  opportunities  were  more  limited  than  Powell's 
because  his  conduct  usually  placed  him  in  the  fourth 
— and  lowest — grade,  depriving  him  of  even  the 
few  privileges  accorded  the  good  cadets,  he  was 
believed  to  have  made  more  headway  in  his  court- 
ship than  Powell.  In  spite  of  the  fact  that  Tyler 
usually  brought  up  the  rear  end  of  the  "wooden 
section"  of  the  class,  and  his  merits  had  not  been 
sufficiently  appreciated  to  bring  him  even  the  small- 
est petty  office,  while  his  room-mate  was  the  Cadet- 
Lieutenant-Commander  of  the  battalion  and  led  the 
'"savvy"  section,  there  was  otherwise  but  little  to 
choose  between  them. 

Naturally  a  gentleman,  four  years  at  the  Acad- 
emy, and  especially  his  intimacy  with  Tyler,  had 
more  than  compensated  for  the  deficiencies  of 
primitive  training  —  or  lack  of  it,  rather  —  in 
the  Kansas  boy,  and  he  had  become  altogether 
a  straightforward,  manly,  gallant,  accomplished 
young  officer.  Tyler  had  ability  enough,  but  an 
invincible  objection  to  study,  and  a  resolute  de- 
termination to  trifle  had  kept  him  back.  Indeed, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  generous  assistance  of  his 
room-mate  he  would  probably  have  "bilged"  long 
since  and  have  been  forced  to  leave  the  Academy 
in  disgrace. 

Both  boys  were  without  means  of  any  sort,  yet 
216 


THE    INDECISION    OF    MABEL 

Powell  invariably  divided  the  monthly  dollar  he 
was  allowed  to  draw  from  his  salary  for  spending 
money  in  consideration  of  his  being  in  the  first 
conduct  grade,  with  Tyler,  who  never  drew  any- 
thing, because  he  was  habitually  in  the  fourth. 
The  two  men  played  right  and  left  guard,  respec- 
tively, on  the  Academy  foot-ball  team,  and  it  was 
difficult  to  tell  whether  it  was  the  black  hair  of 
Tyler  or  the  blond  hair  of  Powell  which  was 
oftener  seen  breaking  through  the  opposing  line. 
In  shooting,  swimming,  dancing,  rowing,  practi- 
cal seamanship,  it  was  hard  to  say  which  excelled, 
while  in  general  goodness  of  heart  and  popularity 
with  the  rest  of  their  class  it  was  difficult  to  decide 
which  bore  the  palm.  Although  public  opinion — 
which  discussed  the  love-affairs  of  a  class-mate 
with  the  same  frankness  with  which  it  borrowed 
his  collars,  or  socks,  or  any  other  article  of  wearing 
apparel — slightly  favored  Tyler's  chances  with  Miss 
Abbott,  no  one  could  really  tell  what  the  decision 
would  be. 

The  young  lady  herself  was  equally  undeter- 
mined. Sometimes  she  thought  she  preferred 
Tyler,  especially  when  he  passed  her  marching 
gloomily  to  the  Santee — the  prison-ship  of  the 
Academy — to  pay  up  for  some  boyish  prank  by 
a  period  of  confinement,  solitary  or  otherwise  in 
proportion  of  the  gravity  of  the  offence;  then 
again,  when  she  saw  Powell  gallantly  handling 
the  battalion,  when  she  heard  his  clear  voice  ring- 
ing out  over  the  parade-ground  in  a  sharp  succes- 
sion of  rapid  commands,  her  heart  turned  to  the 

217 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

West.  Betwixt  West  and  South,  in  fact,  she  had 
rather  a  happy  time. 

The  weary  days  of  tutelage  for  the  two  men, 
however,  were  about  over.  The  day  before  the 
June  graduation  the  battalion  assembled  at  dinner 
formation  heard  an  order  read  out  assigning  to 
his  old  quarters  on  the  Santee  Cadet-Midshipman 
Tyler  of  the  first  class,  the  offence  for  which  this 
punishment  was  meted  out  being  the  harmless 
smoking  of  a  cigarette,  harmless  from  the  cadet 
point  of  view,  that  is — again  the  authorities  dif- 
fered! Tyler  was  to  be  kept  there  until  after 
the  graduation  exercises,  and  it  was  more  than 
intimated  that  he  might  consider  himself  fortunate 
in  view  of  numerous  peccadilloes — of  which  this 
was  the  culmination — to  be  allowed  to  graduate 
at  all! 

Tyler  felt  it  a  great  deprivation  not  to  receive 
his  diploma  with  his  class-mates;  not  to  be  per- 
mitted to  attend  the  graduation  ball,  to  be  de- 
barred from  participating  in  the  class-supper  which 
wound  up  the  four  years'  course,  and  to  be 
handed  his  diploma  after  everyone  had  gone;  to 
spend  those  happy  days  in  durance  on  that  hate- 
ful old  frigate,  but  there  was  no  help  for  it,  and 
as  the  superintendent  said,  looking  at  him  from 
under  his  gray  eyebrows,  he  was  lucky  the  punish- 
ment was  no  worse. 

Powell  and  Tyler  had  a  few  moments'  conver- 
sation in  their  room  while  the  latter  was  packing 
preparatory  to  his  march  to  the  Santee. 

"I  tell  you  what  it  is,  George,"  said  Powell, 
218 


THE    INDECISION    OF    MABEL 

sympathetically,  "I  am  awfully  sorry  for  you,  old 
man.  You  know  we  had  agreed  to  ask  Miss 
Abbott — Mabel,  that  is — which  one  of  us  she 
would  take  after  the  graduation.  We  are  both 
of  us  turned  twenty-one,  and  we  don't  either  of 
us  want  to  go  away  for  two  years  without  hav- 
ing this  thing  settled,  but  I'll  play  fair,  old  fellow. 
I  won't  say  a  word  to  her  until  you  get  out." 

"Frank,"  replied  Tyler,  promptly  and  with  en- 
ergy, "I  had  no  business  to  smoke  that  infernal 
cigarette,  I  did  not  want  it  anyway.  I  only  did  it 
to  devil  the  officer  in  charge,  but  I  intend  to  hold 
you  to  that  agreement.  We  have  talked  it  all 
over  together  and  we  both  agreed  to  ask  her  at 
the  annual  ball.  We  drew  straws  for  it  in  this 
room  and  you  got  the  first  chance.  I'll  never 
speak  to  you  again  if  you  don't  keep  to  this  ar- 
rangement. Our  friendship  will  end  right  here 
unless  you  give  me  your  word  of  honor  to  carry 
out  your  part  of  the  programme.  You  ask  her, 
and  if  she  takes  you  I  shall  have  nothing  more 
to  say — except  that  she  has  chosen  the  better 
man  of  the  two." 

"Nonsense!"  exclaimed  Powell,  in  genuine  ad- 
miration for  the  other's  pluck.  "You  are  a  hero; 
that's  what  you  are,  George,  and  I  won't  do  it." 

They  argued  the  question  vehemently  for  a  few 
moments,  until  the  orderly  tapped  at  the  door 
with  the  "compliments  of  the  officer  in  charge, 
and  it  was  time  for  Mr.  Tyler  to  start  for  the 
Santee."  Tyler  declared  he  would  not  budge  until 

219 


UNDER    TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

Powell  promised  him,  and  Powell  at  last  reluct- 
antly did  so. 

"It  does  not  make  any  difference,"  said  the 
latter.  "She  won't  have  me  anyway." 

"She  will,  if  she's  wise  and  wants  the  better 
man,"  answered  Tyler,  gravely,  trying  to  stifle 
the  hope  in  his  heart  that  his  friend  might  be 
right.  J 

Well,  the  graduation  exercises  were  a  great  suc- 
cess. Powell,  looking  very  handsome,  headed  the 
battalion,  received  the  first  diploma,  was  compli- 
mented by  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  and  was 
altogether  the  hero  of  the  occasion.  Poor  Tyler 
was  on  the  Santee,  and  that  night  Mabel  forgot 
him.  Powell  led  her  out  of  the  old  fort  where  the 
ball  was  held,  and  they  strolled  under  the  moon- 
light down  to  the  old  mortar  on  the  sea-wall. 
There  he  told  her  the  story  of  his  four  year's 
devotion,  and  there  she  gave  him  her  hand;  and 
yet,  somehow,  she  was  not  quite  sure  that  her 
heart  had  gone  with  it,  after  all. 

Three  days  later  Tyler  received  his  diploma  and 
was  allowed  to  leave.  He  found  that  Powell  had 
been  ordered  immediately  to  the  United  States 
ship  Huron,  which  had  gone  on  a  cruise,  and  that 
he  himself  had  been  granted  a  leave  of  absence. 
He  had  seen  Mabel  Abbott  at  the  first  opportu- 
nity, and  had  learned  from  her  that  Powell's 
wooing  had  been  successful.  Concealing  his  dis- 
appointment as  best  he  could,  he  congratulated 
her,  and  wishing  his  friend  much  happiness  when 
he  wrote  him,  he  had  gone  away  to  stifle  the  pain 

220 


THE    INDECISION    OF    MABEL 

in  his  heart.  What  he  did  not  learn  from  Mabel, 
however,  was  that  she  was  more  undecided  than 
ever  as  to  whether  she  had  chosen  the  right  man 
or  not.  In  fact,  as  she  watched  Tyler  walk  down 
Lover's  Lane  after  that  last  parting,  she  was  quite 
sure  that  she  had  made  a  mistake.  How  to  reme- 
dy it  she  knew  not. 

Powell  wrote  her  glowing  and  affectionate  let- 
ters from  every  port,  which  she  answered  as  best 
she  could.  She  had  thoughtlessly  consented  to 
write  to  Tyler  also,  and  the  double  correspondence 
was  humorous  enough.  She  strove  to  put  in  one 
series  of  letters  an  affection  which  she  labored  to 
keep  out  of  the  other,  and  in  neither  case  was  she 
successful;  for  Powell  read  between  the  lines  and 
missed  the  beating  of  a  heart,  and  Tyler,  in  spite 
of  himself,  detected  the  love-touch  in  the  casual 
pages  of  each  letter.  The  one  hoped  against  hope, 
the  other  strove  against  love. 

Chance  in  the  shape  of  orders  from  the  Navy 
Department  brought  Tyler  to  the  Huron  in  No- 
vember after  graduation,  and  the  two  friends  were 
together  again.  It  was  late  in  the  month,  and  the 
Huron  was  just  starting  south  on  a  cruise.  The 
last  batch  of  letters  from  the  shore  was  brought 
in  and  distributed  by  Powell,  who  happened  to  be 
the  midshipman  of  the  watch  at  the  time.  As  he 
examined  and  sorted  the  mail  he  was  astonished 
to  find  one  for  Tyler  in  Mabel's  handwriting.  He 
would  have  been  more  astonished  if  he  had  known 
that,  at  the  last  moment,  her  affection  for  Tyler 
had  overflowed  the  slender  barrier  of  her  previous 

221 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

engagement,  and  that  his  love  for  her  had  broken 
through  the  embankment  of  friendship,  and  both 
had  united  in  a  wave  of  passionate  devotion.  The 
pages  of  that  letter — an  answer  to  one  of  his 
own  similar  in  character — fairly  teemed  with  it. 
Having  been  repressed  so  long,  it  was  the  more 
overwhelming  when  it  did  break  forth.  Yet  the 
inevitable  end,  a  broken  engagement  with  Powell, 
and  a  newly  plighted  troth  with  Tyler,  seemed 
far  from  the  designs  of  both  the  young  people. 
They  appeared  to  think  there  was  nothing  left 
for  them  but  to  carry  on  the  existing  arrange- 
ment of  affairs  and  suffer  in  silence — no,  not  in 
silence,  in  letters. 

"You  know  that  I  could  not  help  seeing  your 
letter  was  from  Mabel,  old  man,"  said  Powell,  as 
he  handed  the  letter  to  his  friend. 

"Yes — yes,"  answered  Tyler,  in  confusion,  blush- 
ing guiltily  at  the  same  time. 

"You  knew  she  was  engaged  to  me?"  asked  the 
other. 

"Yes — certainly — of   course — I — we " 

"Oh,  it's  all  right,  I  have  no  doubt,  her  writing 
to  you,"  responded  Powell,  turning  away. 

A  little  estrangement  sprang  up  between  the 
two  men,  and  during  the  day's  run  down  the  bay 
and  out  to  the  ocean  they  kept  away  from  each 
other.  Tyler  was  full  of  remorse,  Powell  was 
consumed  with  jealousy.  When  the  night-watches 
were  set  and  Powell  began  to  pace  the  lee  side  of 
the  quarter-deck  in  the  first  watch  his  friend  con- 
tinued his  avoidance  of  him,  and  shortly  went 

222 


THE    INDECISION    OF    MABEL 

below  and  turned  in,  without  saying  good-night. 
He  did  not  sleep,  however;  he  was  too  miserable. 
Before  the  lights  were  turned  out  he  read  and  re- 
read Mabel's  passionate  letter  with  mingled  feel- 
ings of  joy  and  remorse,  and  when  darkness  pre- 
vented his  reading  it  again  he  thought  it  all  over, 
and  could  see  no  way  out  of  it.  Honor  and  love, 
a  friend  and  a  woman,  stood  in  the  balance,  and 
for  the  life  of  him  he  could  not  choose. 

It  was  an  unusually  wakeful  watch,  too,  that 
Powell  stood  on  the  deck  above.  Unable  to  sleep 
when  he  was  relieved  at  eight  bells,  midnight, 
he  went  forward  on  the  topgallant  forecastle  and 
stood  by  the  rail,  peering  gloomily  out  in  the 
darkness  ahead.  His  position  was  slightly  less 
miserable  than  Tyler's,  for  it  only  involved  the 
loss  of  love — his  honor  was  not  at  stake. 

It  was  a  wild,  fearful  night ;  the  wind  was  blow- 
ing a  half  gale  toward  the  shore,  and  the  frigate 
was  pitching  and  rolling  tremendously.  She  was 
under  low  steam  and  shortened  sail,  easy  canvas, 
close-hauled  on  the  port  tack,  and  the  quarter- 
master at  the  wheel  was  keeping  his  luff  so  well 
that  the  weather  leeches  of  the  topsails  were  lift- 
ing and  shaking  all  the  time.  Currituck  Light, 
from  which  the  bearings  had  last  been  taken, 
had  long  since  been  lost  sight  of.  Nothing  was 
visible  ahead  or  to  starboard;  the  air,  thick  with 
fog  and  mist,  was  absolutely  impenetrable.  They 
were  proceeding  cautiously,  stopping  every  hour 
to  take  a  cast  at  the  lead,  for  the  coast  under 

223 


UNDER    TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

their  lee  —  off  Cape  Hatteras  —  was  among  the 
most  dangerous  in  the  world. 

The  navigator  and  captain,  who  were  both  vig- 
ilantly on  watch,  thought  they  were  far  out  to 
sea,  but  it  happened  that  night  a  strong  westerly 
current  was  making  inshore,  and  owing  to  the  fog, 
which  prevented  them  from  seeing  the  lights,  and 
the  heavy  gale  blowing,  and  a  slight  deviation  of 
the  compass,  a  little  after  two  bells  in  the  mid- 
watch,  or  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  ship 
struck  with  tremendous  impact  upon  the  shore. 
All  hands  were  on  deck  and  at  their  stations  in 
an  instant.  The  gale  had  increased  until  it  was 
blowing  with  terrific  force.  Again  and  again  by 
the  wild  onset  of  the  rising  tempest  the  ship  was 
lifted  up  and  thrown  down  bodily  upon  the  sand. 
Everything  was  done,  the  masts  were  cut  away, 
the  engines  were  backed  until  the  rising  water 
put  out  the  fires,  but  nothing  availed.  There  she 
stayed,  the  huge  breakers  beating  upon  her  in 
wild  fury.  Driven  high  upon  the  sand,  the  ship 
finally  bilged  with  the  rising  tide  and  began  to 
go  to  pieces. 

The  officers  and  men  at  their  stations  had  done 
their  duty  coolly  and  with  perfect  order  and  dis- 
cipline. But  the  captain  and  several  of  the  offi- 
cers had  been  washed  away,  and  there  was  noth- 
ing left  for  anyone  to  do  but  to  cling  to  the 
wreck  and  hope.  All  the  port  boats  had  been 
stove  in  before  they  could  be  manned  and  lowered ; 
those  to  starboard  were  soon  carried  away.  Un- 
availing attempts  to  get  a  line  ashore  were  made. 

224 


THE    INDECISION    OF    MABEL 

Indeed,  no  one  was  quite  sure  in  which  direction 
the  shore  lay  in  the  thick  darkness  about  them. 
One  by  one  the  chilled,  exhausted  men  gave  up, 
lost  their  hold,  dropped  into  the  sea  and  dis- 
appeared in  the  whirling  blackness  of  the  water. 
The  current  seemed  to  have  changed  somewhat, 
and  those  who  were  washed  off  the  wreck  were 
apparently  carried  out  to  sea. 

So  the  hours  wore  away.  Presently  the  after 
part  of  the  frigate  was  beaten  to  pieces.  A  hud- 
dle of  men  were  left  crowded  together  on  the  top- 
gallant forecastle,  among  them  Powell  and  Tyler. 
They  clung  to  the  wreck  slowly  breaking  beneath 
them  through  the  long  night.  They  saw  one 
after  another  of  their  comrades  and  shipmates 
carried  away.  The  ship  was  heeled  at  an  angle 
of  forty  degrees  and  the  foothold  was  precarious. 
Toward  morning  Powell,  endeavoring  to  move  to 
a  higher  portion  of  the  forecastle,  slipped  and  fell 
into  the  sea.  He  seemed  to  have  hit  a  piece  of 
the  wreck  as  he  reached  the  water,  for,  although, 
he  was  a  fine  swimmer,  he  struck  out  but  feebly. 
Throwing  aside  the  blanket  in  which  he  was 
wrapped,  Tyler  instantly  leaped  into  the  sea  after 
him. 

He  was  by  his  side  in  a  moment  and  caught 
him  by  the  arm  to  support  him.  A  small  life- 
buoy, by  happy  chance,  was  floating  close  at  hand, 
and  Tyler,  guiding  his  companion  toward  it, 
placed  his  hand  upon  it.  The  water  had  revived 
Powell,  and  presently  he  came  to  himself.  As 
he  did  so,  he  realized  what  had  happened.  His 

225 


UNDER    TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

friend  had  saved  him.  Tyler  was  swimming 
alongside  of  him,  and  the  current  was  apparently 
carrying  them  out  to  sea.  He  was  desperately 
injured  and  unable  to  swim.  They  were  already 
far  away  from  the  wreck  of  the  ship. 

"Thank  you,  old  man,"  he  whispered* 

"It's  all  right,"  answered  Tyler,  briefly,  both 
men  saving  their  breath  for  the  struggle  before 
them.  They  drifted  on  in  the  gray  darkness  for 
a  while,  until  Powell  broke  the  silence  again. 

"We  are  going  out  to  sea." 

"Yes." 

"You  are  nearly  used  up,"  he  added,  looking 
at  his  friend  swimming  at  his  side. 

"Oh,  I'm  all  right,"  answered  Tyler,  shortly. 

"Take  hold  of  this  life-buoy,"  said  Powell, 
presently. 

"It  won't  hold  two,  you  keep  it.  I  can  swim." 
There  was  another  pause.  Tyler  was  striving 
with  fast-waning  strength  to  keep  afloat  and  to 
resist  the  horrible  temptation  to  clutch  the  life- 
buoy at  all  hazards. 

"George,"  said  Powell,  at  last,  "it  seems  to 
me  that  we  are  both  done  for.  Tell  me,  in  the 
presence  of  death  and  for  God's  sake,  tell  me 
true,  that  letter — Mabel — she  loves  you?" 

Tyler  hesitated.  He  was  very  faint  and  ex- 
hausted from  the  continued  exertion  of  his  long 
swim  after  the  heart-breaking  experiences  of  the 
night.  He  would  have  given  the  world  not  to  tell 
but  he  lacked  the  strength  to  refuse,  and  in  that 

226 


THE    INDECISION    OF   MABEL 

hour  when  both  looked  death  in  the  face  there 
was  room  for  nothing  but  the  truth. 

"Tell  me  the  truth,  if  you  love  me,  old  man/' 
continued  Powell. 

"Yes,"  panted  Tyler,  white-faced  and  strug- 
gling, "she  loves  me.  My  fault — I  could  not  help 
it.  Forgive  her." 

"It's  all  right,"  answered  Powell.  "She  could 
not  help  it,  either.  I  forgive  you  both.  She's 
got  the  better  man.  Tell  her  I  loved  her  to 
the  end." 

"What  are  you  doing?"  cried  Tyler,  excitement 
and  wonder  supplementing  his  failing  strength. 

"One  must  go.  I'm  done  for,  anyway.  Good- 
by.  Take  the  buoy."  Powell  gave  it  a  gentle 
shove  toward  his  exhausted  companion.  He  threw 
up  his  hands,  smiling  gently,  and  sank  beneath 
the  sea. 

With  the  instinct  of  the  drowning,  Tyler  clung 
to  the  buoy,  peering  down  into  the  blackness  with 
straining  eyes  as  if  to  pierce  the  very  depths  of 
the  water  for  .another  sight  of  his  lost  companion. 
Powell  did  not  rise  to  the  surface. 

An  hour  after  a  turn  of  the  current  washed 
Tyler  to  the  shore.  He  crawled  up  on  the  sand 
and  lay  there  panting  and  exhausted.  When 
morning  broke  he  started  down  the  beach  seek- 
ing assistance  and  looking  for  his  comrades. 
There  were  but  four  officers  and  a  few  men 
saved  from  the  wreck.  These  he  gathered  up 
as  he  walked  along.  As  near  as  he  could  judge, 
opposite  the  place  where  Powell  had  given  him 

227 


UNDER   TOPS'LS   AND   TENTS 

the  life-buoy,  he  found  his  body  lying  face  down- 
ward in  the  sand,  cast  there  by  the  tide  or  the 
current.  When  they  turned  him  over,  Tyler  saw 
that  his  lips  were  set  in  the  same  smile  that  they 
had  worn  when  he  had  sunk  into  the  sea. 

When  he  told  Mabel  Abbott  of  the  self-sacrifice 
of  his  friend,  the  torturing  indecision  came  back 
to  her  heart  once!  more,  and  though  she  said  noth- 
ing about  it,  she  was  not  at  all  sure  but  that, 
after  all,  she  had  loved  Powell  instead  of  his 
friend. 

But  she  married  George  Tyler  just  the  same. 


228 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  LETTER 

A  Story  of  the  Loss  of  the  Monitor  Tecumseh 


"Cora,  you  iiave  ruined  me!" 

It  was  not  a  pleasant  phrase,  and  the  more  it 
stared  Miss  Cora  Summerfield  in  the  face  in  the 
bold  black  chirography  of  Frederick  Barton,  Chief 
Engineer  in  the  United  States  Navy,  the  more 
unpleasant  it  seemed.  There  were  other  sentences 
in  the  letter,  which  was  a  furious  protestation 
ending  with  this  bitter  phrase,  called  forth  by 
the  final  rejection  of  Barton's  suit  by  the  woman 
who  had  coquetted  with  him  for  three  years  be- 
fore she  had  thrown  him  over.  The  intimacy 
of  that  long  period  had  permitted  her  so  to  know 
the  man  that  she  realized  the  essential  accuracy 
of  the  grim  assertion.  That  the  statement  was 
true  but  intensified  her  disquiet. 

Just  before  he  was  ordered  South  to  be  chief 
engineer  of  the  monitor  Tecumseh  he  had  made  a 
final  and  peremptory  appeal  to  her.  The  perilous 
nature  of  his  future  service  demanded  that  she 
come  to  some  decision.  When  she  had  rejected 
his  insistent  demand  for  a  definite  engagement  by 
letter,  she  had  received  this  answer.  She  had 
begun  the  sport  of  playing  with  this  man's  heart 

229 


UNDER    TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

thoughtlessly,  and  had  continued  it  because  she 
had  found  it  difficult  to  release  him.  Now,  that 
she  had  definitely  done  so,  she  was  by  no  means 
satisfied  with  herself.  She  was  not  at  all  sure 
that  she  did  not  love  him,  in  fact,  she  was  quite 
sure  that  she  did,  but  whether  she  loved  him  more 
than  she  loved  her  freedom,  her  position  as  an 
acknowledged  belle  in  that  exclusive  society  to 
which  her  birth  and  education  and  her  mother's 
wealth  admitted  her,  was  a  grave  question.  The 
longer  she  considered  the  answer  she  had  made, 
the  more  unsettled  she  became. 

Womanlike — and  manlike,  too — there  was  a 
"P.  S."  to  Barton's  bitter  reproach.  He  had 
ventured  upon  a  further  and  a  last  appeal  to  her 
heart.  That,  and  the  reproach,  were  battering 
upon  her  defences.  The  question  she  had  thought 
settled  still  rose  before  her,  and,  in  wretched  in- 
decision, she  reviewed  the  situation.  Like  many 
another  mortal  so  circumstanced,  she  resolved  to 
leave  the  determination  of  the  issue  to  the  god 
of  chance. 

Having  come  to  this  decision  she  rapidly  drew 
her  writing  materials  before  her  and  scribbled  off 
two  notes.  In  one,  in  the  briefest  terms,  she  in- 
sisted upon  her  rejection.  In  the  other,  which 
was  equally  concise,  she  bade  him  come  to  her 
when  he  returned  and  claim  her  if  he  would.  She 
thrust  the  two  notes  into  two  exactly  similar 
envelopes  and  directed  each  of  them  to  Chief 
Engineer  Frederick  Barton,  U.  S.  N.,  care  of 
Admiral  Farragut's  Western  Gulf  Blockading 

230 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  LETTER 

Squadron  off  Mobile  Bay.  Having  completed 
these  tasks,  she  rang  for  her  maid.  When  the 
latter  appeared  she  handed  her  the  two  letters 
and  told  her  to  burn  one  of  them  and  mail  the 
other. 

"Which  one  shall  I  burn,  Miss  Cora?"  asked 
the  surprised  servant. 

"Either  one,"  directed  her  mistress.  "Put  one 
of  them  in  the  fire  there." 

She  turned  her  head  away  as  the  mystified  maid 
carried  out  her  orders,  lest  she  should  see  which 
letter  was  destroyed;  though,  indeed,  she  could 
scarcely  have  detected  which  one  stayed  at  home 
and  which  one  went  on  its  way.  Thereafter  she 
waited  with  growing  impatience  for  a  reply — or  the 
absence  of  one — which  would  determine  whether 
she  was  to  become  in  the  future  Mrs.  Frederick 
Barton,  or  remain,  until  some  more  favored 
suitor  appeared,  Miss  Cora  Summerfield. 

Having  left  the  affair  to  the  god  of  chance, 
she  immediately  determined  her  preference  in  her 
own  mind — which  is  ever  the  human  way.  The 
time  dragged  by  on  leaden  feet. 

ii 

IT  was  ghastly  hot  in  the  engine-room  of  the 
Tecumsehf  and  hotter  still  in  the  fire-room  ad- 
joining it.  The  firemen  and  coal-heavers  nearly 
fainted  between  the  awful  temperature  and  the 
tremendous  labor  involved  in  keeping  up  steam 
on  the  monitor.  Every  hatch  was  battened  down, 
and  every  outlet,  save  a  single  ventilator,  rigidly 

231 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

closed  and  secured.  Of  fresh  air  there  was  none. 
It  was  stifling  in  those  bowels  of  the  ship  below 
the  water-line.  Barton  himself  stood  at  the  throt- 
tle of  the  mighty  engine,  the  rest  of  his  force  dis- 
posed around  him  at  their  battle  stations. 

Since  early  morning  they  had  been  running 
ahead  under  low  steam.  It  was  perfectly  well 
loiown  to  all  of  them  that  Admiral  Farragut 
intended  to  force  the  passage  of  Mobile  Bay 
and  that  the  Tecumseh  was  to  lead  the  fleet  into 
the  torpedo-strewn  channel.  When  the  orders 
were  issued  they  had  exulted  at  the  honor  be- 
stowed upon  them,  and  had  given  little  thought 
to  the  almost  certain  destruction  which  lay  be- 
fore them. 

The  captain,  and  the  pilot  in  the  pilot-house, 
and  the  men  in  the  turret  on  deck,  caught  glimpses 
now  and  then  of  the  shore  as  the  long  line  of 
monitors  and  ships  rushed  up  the  harbor.  Ever 
and  anon  puffs  of  the  tropic  air  of  the  hot  August 
morning  were  driven  in  through  the  port  holes 
and  afforded  them  some  slight  relief,  but  the  men 
below  felt  nothing,  saw  nothing,  knew  nothing, 
heard  nothing  but  the  rattle  of  the  slicer  bars  in 
the  fires,  the  crash  of  the  buckets  of  coal  emptied 
into  the  furnaces,  the  grind  and  clank  and  whir 
of  the  mighty  engines.  Most  of  them  were  half 
naked,  perspiration  streaming  off  their  dust-be- 
grimed bodies.  The  tension  was  almost  unbear- 
able, and  it  was  a  great  relief  to  all  of  them  when, 
about  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  ship  quiv- 
ered from  turret  to  keelson  and  the  roar  of  two 

232 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  LETTER 

great  fifteen-inch  guns  above  them  told  them  that 
they  were  within  striking  distance.  On  the  face 
of  the  water  pandemonium  broke  loose.  The 
heavy  guns  of  the  ships'  broadsides,  punctuated 
by  the  deeper  detonations  of  the  giants  of  the 
monitors  as  they  exchanged  streams  of  shot  and 
shell  with  the  guns  of  Fort  Morgan,  covered  the 
water  with  a  diapason  of  sound  which  echoed  and 
reverberated  in  the  gloomy  recesses  of  the  iron- 
clad. 

Then,  as  never  before,  the  engineers  looked  to 
the  engines.  Barton  himself  went  to  the  turret 
engine.  The  safety  of  all  depended  upon  them. 
Should  there  be  a  check,  a  stop,  a  break-down, 
the  whole  line  would  be  halted  under  the  guns  of 
Fort  Morgan,  and  for  the  wooden  ships  to  stand 
still  would  be  simply  courting  destruction  by  the 
delay.  'Everything  worked  smoothly,  however. 
Not  for  nothing  had  Barton  gone  over  the  engines 
with  his  own  hand.  Not  a  shaft,  not  a  valve,  not 
a  bearing  under  his  eagle  eye  played  him  false. 
The  huge  turret  turned  as  easily  as  a  child's  toy, 
and  again  and  again  the  huge  shells  were  hurled 
upon  the  enemy. 

So  the  minutes  wore  away  and  with  them  came 
back  suspense  again.  The  ears  of  the  men  became 
accustomed  to  the  roar  of  the  cannonade,  and 
anticipation  busied  itself  with  thoughts  of  what 
the  next  act  in  the  mighty  drama  would  be.  There 
was  an  interval  of  silence  above.  The  practised 
men  below  were  conscious  that  the  ship  was  turn- 
ing quickly  to  port.  Although  they  never  knew 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

it,   the   Tecumseh   was   heading   straight    for   the 
Tennessee. 

Then  came  the  catastrophe  with  a  suddenness 
that  was  appalling.  Without  a  moment's  warn- 
ing the  whole  bow  of  the  ship  was  lifted  into  the 
air.  There  was  another  deadlier  deafening  roar 
under  their  feet.  The  shattered  timbers  and 
armor-plate  forward  were  driven  in  as  if  they  had 
been  struck  by  a  gigantic  hammer;  water  poured 
into  the  engine-room,  dashed  around  the  feet  of 
the  startled  engineers,  rose  to  their  waists  in  an 
instant  and  flooded  the  fire-rooms.  The  red-hot 
boilers  exploded  with  crashing  detonations,  the 
ship  was  a  total  wreck  in  thirty  seconds.  Like  a 
piece  of  old  iron  she  plunged  beneath  the  water. 
With  his  right  hand  instinctively  clutching  the 
useless  lever  of  the  engine,  Barton  stood  at  his 
post.  As  the  boat  sank  he  tore  open  the  front 
of  his  jacket,  drew  forth  from  the  pocket  over 
his  heart  a  letter  which  he  had  received  the  night 
before,  lifted  it  with  clinched  hand  before  his 
face — and  was  gone. 

in 

ON  the  6th  of  August,  with  millions  of  people 
the  world  over,  but  with  emotions  peculiarly  her 
own,  Miss  Cora  Summerfield  read  the  despatches 
announcing  Farragut's  magnificent  dash  into  Mo- 
bile Bay  and  the  awful  story  of  the  loss  of  the 
Tecumseh,  blown  up  by  a  torpedo.  A  few  days 
after  the  battle  divers  examining  the  wreck 
brought  to  the  surface  the  body  of  the  chief 

234 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  LETTER 

engineer.  In  his  hand  was  an  open  piece  of 
paper,  evidently  a  letter. 

When  the  body  of  the  engineer  was  brought 
home  Miss  Summerfield  went  to  the  bereaved 
mother,  told  her  story,  asked  for  and  received  the 
water-stained  piece  of  paper.  It  was  her  own 
letter!  With  eager  hands  she  unfolded  it.  Alas, 
the  water  had  rendered  the  message  undecipher- 
able. 

To  the  day  of  her  death  she  did  not  know 
whether  she  had  accepted  or  rejected  him.  Of 
one  thing  alone  had  she  a  bitter  certainty — too 
late  she  realized  that  she  loved  the  dead  hero 
with  all  her  heart  and  soul,  and  she  would  have 
given  years  of  her  life  to  have  been  able  to  tell 
him  so,  or,  failing  that,  to  settle  the  question  as 
to  what  her  answer  had  been — to  divine  the  secret 
of  the  washed-out  letter  in  the  dead  man's  hand. 


235 


THE  OLD  LOVE  AND  THE  NEW 
The  Story  of  a  Shipwreck  in  the  Pacific 


THE  United  States  ship  Sanilac,  under  the 
charge  of  Lieutenant  Commander  Montmor- 
ency  Gerard,  had  been  engaged  for  a  year  or  two 
past  in  a  rather  desultory  scientific  and  surveying 
expedition  in  the  South  Pacific  Ocean,  and  on  the 
night  of  the  loth  of  June,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord 
1871,  she  was  homeward  bound.  From  a  sloop 
trading  among  the  islands  of  the  South  Seas, 
Captain  Gerard  had  received  information  of  cer- 
tain shipwrecked  American  sailors  in  great  desti- 
tution on  Midway  Island,  a  lonely,  desolate  little 
spot  of  sand,  sunning  itself  under  the  equator, 
and  protected  from  the  persistent  attack  of  the 
great  ocean  by  an  encircling  belt  of  jagged  coral 
reef,  over  which  the  surf  broke  in  mighty  surges. 
Like  all  true  seamen,  who  make  the  saving  of 
life  upon  the  sea  the  first  object  of  their  endeavor, 
Captain  Gerard  had  altered  his  course  sufficiently 
to  enable  him  to  make  the  island  and  rescue  the 
castaways.  As  the  island  was  thought  to  be  near, 
and  the  seas  were  dangerous  in  the  extreme,  the 
Sanilac,  under  low  steam  and  short  canvas,  was 
proceeding  warily  upon  her  way.  At  four  bells 
in  the  mid  watch,  the  officer  of  the  deck,  Lieuten- 

236 


THE  OLD  LOVE  AND  THE  NEW 

ant  William  Harland,  who,  for  better  observation, 
had  chosen  to  stand  his  watch  on  the  forecastle 
rather  than  the  quarter-deck,  thought  he  heard 
the  roar  of  a  breaker  above  the  throb  of  the 
engines,  the  beat  of  the  screw,  and  the  sigh  of 
the  tropic  breeze,  which  seemed  to  have  strength- 
ened somewhat  as  it  sang  through  the  top  hamper. 

It  was  impossible  to  see  anything,  the  night 
being  pitch  dark  except  for  the  glory  of  the 
Southern  stars;  but,  like  a  prudent  officer,  Lieu- 
tenant Harland  immediately  ordered  the  engines 
stopped,  the  captain  notified,  and  the  other  watch 
called.  The  deck  was  soon  filled  with  men  eagerly 
seeking  their  appointed  stations,  and  the  captain 
and  Lieutenant  Harland  consulted  together.  No 
one  else  had  heard  the  supposed  breaker,  no  one 
could  hear  it  now,  and,  as  by  the  patent  log  and 
a  most  carefully  computed  dead  reckoning,  they 
were  still  several  leagues  from  the  threatening 
island,  they  decided  to  go  ahead  once  more.  So 
the  engines  resumed  their  motion,  and  the  Sanilac 
slowly  gathered  way  and  stood  on  her  course. 
The  watch  off  was  piped  down,  and  those  of 
the  crew  not  on  lookout  disposed  themselves  in 
slumber.  The  captain  remained  a  few  moments 
on  the  forecastle,  talking  with  his  officer. 

"I  think  you  were  mistaken,  Harland.  Depend 
on  it,  we  shall  have  to  make  ten  miles  more 
southing  before  we  hit  that  reef." 

"Perhaps  I  was,  sir,"  responded  the  lieutenant, 
blushing  a  little  in  the  darkness.  "I  dare  say  I 
am  over-anxious,  but  when  a  fellow's  homeward 

237 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

bound  and  his  sweetheart  has  the  other  end  of 
the  tow  rope,  he  wants  to  get  there  safe  and 
sound,  you  know/1 

The  captain  laughed.  "Yes,  I  know,"  he  said. 
"There  are  hands  holding  my  tow  rope,  too — and 
some  of  them  are  baby  hands,"  he  added  softly 
in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  which  seemed  to 
make  both  men  a  little  more  communicative  than 
was  usual. 

"Ah,  Captain,  but  I  only  met  Miss  Wood  a 
month  before  we  left  San  Francisco,  and  I've  had 
only  four  short  letters  since  then,  and " 

"And  you  became  engaged  only  the  day  you 
sailed,  I  believe,"  interrupted  the  captain,  still 
smiling.  "Well,  I  shall  go  aft,  I  think,"  he  con- 
tinued, after  a  long  pause.  "No,  I  will  not  leave 
the  deck.  Do  you  stay  here.  Cat-heads  there," 
he  called  sharply  to  the  men  on  either  side  of 
the  bows,  peering  eagerly  and  insistently  forward 
through  the  darkness,  "keep  a  good  lookout 
ahead!" 

"Aye,  aye,  sir,"  rang  out  promptly  from  both 
the  sailors. 

"I  shall  send  two  of  the  after  guards  to  the 
gangways  as  well,"  he  continued.  "Have  you  a 
man  aloft?" 

"Yes,  sir;  ever  since  I  came  on  watch,"  an- 
swered Harland. 

"Ah,  that's  well.  It's  nothing  he  can  see,  but 
perhaps  he  can  hear  better  than  we  on  deck. 
Well,  good " 

"Sir,  I  hear  something,"  cried  one  of  the  look- 
238 


THE  OLD  LOVE  AND  THE  NEW 

outs,  suddenly.  "There !"  —  pointing.  "Listen ! 
Crash!  Don't  you  hear  it,  sirs?  Almighty  God, 
it's  the  breakers!  Breakers  on  the  starboard 
bow!"  he  shouted. 

"Breakers  ahead!"  came  down  a  wild  hail  from 
the  masthead  at  the  same  moment. 

"I  see  'em,  too — breakers  on  the  port  bow!" 
screamed  the  other  lookout,  hoarsely. 

"Call  all  hands,"  shouted  the  captain,  promptly 
and  coolly.  "Lively!  Stop  the  engines.  In  with 
the  topsails,  Mr.  Harland.  Lead  along  the  clew 
lines,  men;  jump  for  your  lives.  Back  her,  back 
her  hard.  Shift  the  helm  there;  over  with  it. 
Hard-a-starboard.  Hands  by  the  starboard  an- 
chor," came  the  orders  in  rapid  succession,  as  the 
disciplined  men  sprang  to  their  stations;  but  the 
little  ship  seemed  to  have  been  caught  in  some 
sort  of  a  treacherous  current,  which,  without 
warning,  had  carried  her  out  of  her  course,  and 
now,  in  spite  of  all  they  could  do,  she  rapidly 
drifted  down  upon  the  reef,  over  which  the  waves 
were  breaking  tremendously,  until,  with  a  long, 
shuddering  crash,  she  struck,  lifted  half  over  the 
reef,  struck  again,  settled  down,  bilged,  and  lay 
with  the  whole  Pacific  Ocean  beating  and  thunder- 
ing on  her  beam  ends,  her  human  cargo  paralyzed 
and  impotent  before  the  mighty  force  in  whose 
hands  the  Sanilac  was  but  a  toy,  a  plaything! 

In  a  short  time,  however,  mind  asserted  its  sway 
over  matter,  and  discipline  and  order  triumphed 
over  chaos  and  destruction.  The  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  souls  on  the  Sanilac,  under  the  skilful 

239 


UNDER    TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

leadership  of  the  captain,  ably  seconded  by  his 
officers,  were  all  safely  transported  over  the  in- 
tervening space  of  smooth  water  within  the  pro- 
jecting circle  of  the  reef  and  landed  upon  the 
sandy  islet,  joining  those  previously  wrecked  upon 
the  island.  When  the  morning  broke  they  took 
account  of  their  situation.  There  was  but  little 
water  and  scant  vegetation  on  the  island,  the  ship 
was  fast  breaking  up  before  their  eyes,  and  they 
had  saved  but  little  provision  before  she  disap- 
peared. There  was  but  one  conclusion:  unless 
help  came  from  outside  sources,  they  would  all 
inevitably  perish  from  starvation  or  thirst.  They 
might  manage  to  exist,  by  husbanding  their  re- 
sources with  the  greatest  care,  for  two  months 
at  the  farthest.  After  that — God  help  them! 

There  was  but  one  thing  to  be  done.  Captain 
Gerard  mustered  the  crew  and  called  for  volun- 
teers to  man  the  whale-boat,  the  only  one  saved 
from  the  wreck  which  was  seaworthy,  and  carry 
the  news  of  their  plight  to  the  nearest  land  from 
which  they  might  hope  for  succor,  the  Sandwich 
Islands,  lying  three  thousand  miles  off  to  the 
northeast.  From  the  many  volunteers  who  pre- 
sented themselves,  Lieutenant  Harland  and  four 
seamen  were  chosen.  They  partly  decked  the 
boat  over,  raised  the  gunwales  some  six  or  eight 
inches,  provisioned  her  as  generously  as  their 
scanty  stores  allowed,  gave  her  the  only  compass 
and  the  only  sextant  they  had  saved,  and  then, 
with  a  prayer  to  the  God  of  the  castaway,  they 
launched  the  little  vessel  and  watched  it  as  it  sped 

240 


THE  OLD  LOVE  AND  THE  NEW 

away  through  a  narrow  pass  in  the  reef;  watched 
it  until  it  disappeared,  a  tiny  speck  of  humanity 
upon  the  great  encircling  deep  of  God.  And  then 
they  waited  through  the  long  and  weary  days. 

II 

Miss  ELIZABETH  WOOD  and  Mr.  Arthur  Deane 
were  walking  together  one  warm  evening  about 
the  last  of  July  upon  the  great,  smooth  stretch 
of  shining  sand  bordering  the  sea  in  Hanalei  Bay, 
in  the  Island  of  Kauai,  the  most  northern  of  the 
Hawaiian  group.  Back  of  them,  in  the  centre  of 
the  island,  towered  the  great  basaltic  mountain  of 
Waialele.  Its  sides  lower  down  rolling  and  spread- 
ing into  deep  valleys  and  covered  with  the  luxu- 
riant verdure  of  the  tropics  formed  an  enchant- 
ing background  for  the  great  expanse  of  glittering 
sand  and  sparkling  sea  before  them;  they  were 
far  enough  from  the  shore  to  make  the  roar  of 
the  breakers,  which  began  away  out  at  Haena 
Point  and  seemed  to  keep  increasing  in  size  until 
they  fell  in  tremendous  onslaught  upon  the  sandy 
beach,  rather  a  pleasant  music  than  otherwise. 

Lying  snug  at  anchor  in  a  sheltered  cove  of  the 
bay  were  two  vessels,  the  United  States  steam 
sloop  of  war  Jamestown,  Captain  Charles  Wood, 
U.S.N.,  and  the  steam  yacht  Southern  Cross, 
owned  by  Mr.  Pusey,  of  San  Francisco,  in  which 
Miss  Elizabeth  Wood,  daughter  of  Captain  Charles 
Wood  aforesaid,  was  a  guest  and  a  passenger. 
All  the  young  officers  of  the  Jamestown  were  in 
love  with  Elizabeth  Wood,  and  Lieutenant  Deane, 

241 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

the  most  favored  of  them  all,  was  improving  a  rare 
and  unexpected  hour  of  undisturbed  companion- 
ship to  plead  his  own  cause. 

"Oh,  please,  Mr.  Deane,"  said  Elizabeth,  "don't 
say  anything  more  about  it.  I  can't.  You  know 
I  am  already  engaged,  and  I " 

"But  you  don't  say,  you  won't  say,  you  don't 
love  me,  Elizabeth,"  responded  Deane.  "If  you 
could  say  that,  I  wouldn't  say  another  word;  I'd 
just  go  and  leave  you;  but  you  cannot  say  it." 

"I  can,"  she  replied,  promptly. 

"You  cannot — that  is,  not  truthfully,"  he  re- 
plied. "I  adore  you,  Elizabeth,  and  last  night 
when  I  kissed  you,  out  there  by  the  palm-tree  on 
the  point —  Oh,  Bess,  don't  ruin  my  life  for  a 
quixotic  scruple.  You  know  you  love  me." 

"I  do  not,"  she  responded,  promptly. 

"Do  not  what?  Do  not  love  me?"  he  asked, 
sternly. 

"Do  not  know  I  do,"  she  responded,  rather 
lamely,  looking  down  at  her  feet. 

"There,"  he  replied,  triumphantly,  "you  see 
you  do.  Now,  what's  the  sense  in  your  letting 
an  engagement  to  a  fellow  you  met  two  years  ago, 
and  only  knew  a  month,  and  whom  you  don't  love', 
prevent  our  being  happy?  It  isn't  right,  and  it 
isn't  just  to  yourself,  or  to  me.  I've  loved  you 
ever  since  I've  known  you,  for  a  year,  and  I'll  love 
you  forever.  I  simply  cannot  live  without  you. 
Say  yes,  Bess  dear,  and  write  him  it's  over.  Who 
and  where  is  he,  anyway?" 

"His  name  is  William  Harland,  and  he  is  a 
242 


THE  OLD  LOVE  AND  THE  NEW 

lieutenant  on  the  Sanilac.  She  has  been  in  the 
South  Pacific  since  I — since  we " 

"I  dare  say  he's  forgotten  you  by  this  time,  any- 
way," he  interrupted. 

"No,  he  has  not.     You  should  see  his  letters/' 

"I  don't  want  to  see  them,"  he  returned,  sav- 
agely. "I  dare  say  he's  flirting  around  with  some 
South  Sea  Island  girl  now." 

"Arthur,  this  is  unworthy  of  you,"  she  replied, 
quietly. 

"I  know  it,  Elizabeth,"  he  answered,  contritely, 
"and  I've  always  heard  he  was  a  good  fellow  and 
all  that,  but  if  you  don't  love  him,  you  don't — do 
you?  No!  Well,  then,  I  should  advise  you  to 
give  him  up,  like  a  true  woman,  and  take  me." 

"Oh,  Arthur,  would  I  be  a  true  woman  if  I 
did?  It  does  not  seem  fair.  I've  had  such  letters 
from  him,  and  he's  so  devoted  to  me,  I  can't  bear 
to  jilt  him." 

"Of  course  he's  devoted  to  you.  He  couldn't 
help  it.  I  can  understand  that  perfectly,"  inter- 
rupted Deane,  softly  and  jealously. 

"And  I  really  thought  I  loved  him,  you  know, 
and  he  was  in  such  a  hurry,  and  now  what  can  I 
do?  It  does  not  seem  honorable.  I  am  not  a 
coquette,  really." 

"Honorable?"  said  Deane,  flushing.  "Is  there 
anything  dishonorable  in  finding  out  one  has  made 
a  mistake?  But  if  you  think  that,  Miss  Wood,  I 
shall  say  no  more."  He  turned  away  with  a  grave 
bow. 

"Stop,  Arthur!"  she  cried,  impulsively.  "You 
243 


UNDER    TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

must  not  go  away  like  this.  You  know  I  love 
you.  Yes,  I'll  break  it  off.  Poor  Mr.  Harland!" 

Deane  caught  her  in  his  arms  under  the  shade 
of  the  trees.  "Bless  you  for  that,  Bess,"  he  said; 
"you  shall  never  repent  it." 

"Stop,  stop,  Arthur !"  But  Arthur  did  not  stop 
until,  with  a  sudden  cry,  she  interrupted  him. 
"Oh,  what  is  that?"  she  cried,  excitedly. 

"Where?" 

"There!"  She  pointed  far  out  to  sea.  Follow- 
ing her  outstretched  arm  with  his  keen  and  prac- 
tised vision,  he  saw  a  boat  with  a  small  triangular 
sail  on  a  mast  topped  by  a  streaming  flag  forward, 
rapidly  speeding  toward  the  shore,  now  riding, 
now  disappearing  in  the  heavy  sea. 

The  men  in  the  boat  evidently  were  not  familiar 
with  the  treacherous  bay,  else  they  would  never 
have  attempted  to  beach  the  boat  under  such 
circumstances.  Indeed,  there  was  hardly  a  safe 
landing-place  anywhere  for  a  boat  under  the  pre- 
vailing conditions  of  wind  and  weather,  except 
the  cove  where  the  Jamestown  lay,  and  that  was 
far  off  and  impracticable  for  the  whale-boat. 

The  wind  was  increasing  and  blowing  hard 
straight  on  shore.  The  men  could  see  the  break- 
ers, though  of  course  viewing  them  from  seaward 
with  the  wind  blowing  from  them  they  misjudged 
their  power.  It  was  evident  they  were  in  sore 
straits  or  they  would  not  have  attempted  to  make 
a  landing.  Though,  indeed,  once  well  in  the  bay, 
in  the  face  of  such  a  wind  and  sea  it  would  have 
been  wellnigh  impossible  to  beat  out.  They  must 

244 


THE  OLD  LOVE  AND  THE  NEW 

have  realized  that  they  were  taking  desperate 
chances,  yet  they  held  on.  In  fact,  they  were 
starving  for  lack  of  food,  dying  from  thirst,  broken 
from  exposure,  wild  with  anxiety  to  tell  their 
story.  Recklessly  they  drove  toward  the  shore. 

"It's  a  boat,"  cried  Deane,  excitedly — "a  ship's 
whale-boat.  See,  the  flag  is  union  down !  They're 
in  trouble,  and  they'll  be  in  worse  trouble  in  a  few 
minutes.  They  don't  know  the  danger.  They  are 
heading  straight  for  the  breakers.  Oh,  if  I  could 
only  warn  them!  There  goes  a  gun  from  the 
Jamestown.  By  Heaven,  she's  well  handled 
though!  The  man's  a  seaman,  every  inch  of 
him;  but  it's  no  use;  he  does  not  know  the  har- 
bor. There  goes  the  Jamestown's  second  cutter.  It 
will  be  too  late.  Come,  Bess,  let  us  run  toward 
the  beach;  we  may  save  someone  when  she  gets 
in  the  breakers/' 

Hand  in  hand  they  raced  over  the  sand  to  the 
very  edge  of  the  shore;  wet  with  spray,  they 
watched  the  whale-boat,  the  water  rolling  and 
curling  over  the  sands  about  their  feet. 

"There,  she's  gone!  No — again — he  has  her 
still!  Splendid,  splendid!"  cried  the  young  officer. 

"Oh,  Arthur,  isn't  it  awful?" 

"Oh,  God,  she  broaches  to!  The  mast  goes; 
there,  she's  over  at  last!  God  help  them  now!" 

It  was  over  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  The 
little  boat  capsized;  five  heads  struggled  near  her; 
then,  one  by  one,  they  sank  and  disappeared, 
except  that  of  one  man,  who  weakly  clung  to  the 
prow  of  the  capsized  boat.  As  he  struggled  to 

245 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

climb  upon  the  keel,  the  boat  suddenly  rose  in 
the  air  and  seemed  to  come  down  upon  him 
viciously,  like  a  raging  animal;  for  when  it  rose 
again  they  did  not  see  him. 

"Oh,  there  is  someone,  Arthur !"  screamed  Eliz- 
abeth. "Just  where  that  wave  is  breaking — do 
you  see  him?  There!  There!" 

The  young  man  ran  recklessly  out  in  the  water 
at  the  imminent  risk  of  his  own  life,  and  after  a 
desperate  struggle  succeeded  in  bringing  a  bit  of 
human  flotsam  to  the  shore.  It  was  a  man,  gaunt 
and  haggard  and  weather-beaten,  dressed  in  what 
had  been  once  a  uniform.  There  was  a  frightful 
gash  across  his  forehead  and  down  his  right  cheek, 
from  which  the  blood  was  oozing;  he  was  still 
breathing,  and  Deane  carried  him  farther  up  on 
the  beach,  and  laid  him  down  upon  the  warm, 
dry  sand.  Elizabeth  knelt  beside  him,  and  en- 
deavored to  stanch  the  flow  of  blood,  while  Deane 
ran  to  get  some  water  in  his  cap  from  a  nearby 
spring.  They  poured  some  water  and  a  little 
whiskey  from  Deane' s  flask  down  his  throat — and 
watched  him.  There  was  something  familiar  to 
the  girl  in  his  face;  who  was  he? 

"Will  he  die,  Arthur  ?"  she  said. 

"I  fear  so,"  he  answered.  "I  see  the  James- 
town's cutter  pulling  for  the  cove  on  the  other 
side;  I  hope  they'll  have  a  doctor  with  them." 

At  this  moment  the  man  opened  his  eyes. 

"Bess — you?"  he  said  in  a  whisper  full  of  sur- 
prise, and  then  she  knew  him,  in  spite  of  his  beard 

246 


THE  OLD  LOVE  AND  THE  NEW 

and  the  deep  lines  traced  by  exposure  and  star- 
vation in  his  face. 

"Why,  Mr.  Harland!  Will!  Oh,  my  God! 
How  came  you  here?"  she  cried. 

Deane  turned  pale,  but  dropped  upon  his  knees 
beside  the  other  in  obedience  to  a  gesture  from 
the  apparently  dying  man. 

"You're  an  officer,  I  see,"  he  said,  faintly. 

"Lieutenant  Deane  of  the  Jamestown"  inter- 
rupted Elizabeth. 

"Yes,  I  saw  the  flag,  God  bless  it.  I'm  from 
the  Sanilac — Harland,  you  know.  We  were 
wrecked  on  Midway  Island,"  he  went  on,  slowly. 
"All  saved — no  water,  no  provisions — we  came 
here  to  tell  the  story — you  must  go  back  and  get 
them.  Don't  forget."  His  voice  died  away,  but 
they  gave  him  more  water  and  whiskey,  and  after 
a  long  pause  he  spoke  again.  He  had  managed 
to  get  hold  of  Elizabeth's  hand  meanwhile. 

"Oh,  Bess,  this  is  a  reward  for  it  all!  Forty 
days  we  have  sat  in  that  little  drifting  boat;  first 
the  provisions  gave  out,  then  the  water;  contrary 
winds  kept  us  back,  and  the  men  got  sick — are 
they  all  gone  now?  Ah,  well,  they  died  like  sail- 
ors! I  thought  of  you  every  hour.  There's  no 
one  else  to  mourn  for  me.  I  had  only  you.  No, 
don't  go,  Mr.  Deane — I  shall  be  slipping  my  cable 
presently.  Your  love  has  been  so  much  to  me, 
Bessie.  Open  my  jacket — there  in  the  pocket — 
your  letters — only  four.  How  I  have  read  them, 
over  and  over!  They're  almost  worn  out,  but 
they'll  last  until  I'm  in  the  harbor.  I've  been  so 

247 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

proud  and  confident  in  your  love.  I  saw  you  two 
and  knew  one  of  you  was  a  woman,  just  before 
we  got  into  the  breakers,  and  I  could  not  die 
without  telling  my  message.  But  I  never  dreamed 
it  was  you,  Bess.  I  tried  to  climb  into  the  boat 
by  the  stem  after  she  went  over,  but  she  rose  up 
and  hit  me  here  in  the  face,  and  I  thought  it  was 
over.  Who  brought  me  in?  You?  Oh,  thank 
you,  sir,  and  God  bless  you;  you  brought  me  to 
my  sweetheart's  feet.  I  can  say  once  more  before 
I  go,  'I  love  you,  Bess/  and  hear  once  more  from 
you  the  words  you  told  me  that  summer  night 
as  we  looked  out  toward  the  Golden  Gate  to- 
gether. Say  it,  Bess/'  He  spoke  in  a  low  whis- 
per, brokenly,  and  with  long  intervals  of  silence, 
while  he  gazed  upon  her. 

"I  love  you,  Will,"  whispered  the  girl,  her  face 
white  and  drawn,  the  tears  streaming  from  her 
eyes.  The  dying  man  smiled  up  at  her. 

"Kiss  me,  Bess,"  he  said,  faintly,  and  his  eyes 
closed. 

Deane  got  up  and  walked  away.  In  a  few  min- 
utes Elizabeth's  choking  voice  called  him  back. 
Harland  was  lying  still  and  motionless  on  the  sand 
— and  the  engagement  was  broken.  Deane  drew 
near  to  her  and  put  out  his  hand,  but  she  turned 
away  weeping,  and  buried  her  face  in  her  hands. 
Just  then  the  chaplain  of  the  ship  and  an  ensign, 
who  had  been  strolling  together,  came  down  to 
the  beach  from  the  woodland.  They  saw  the  little 
party  and  ran  toward  it.  A  few  words  from 
Deane  put  them  in  possession  of  the  facts. 

248 


THE  OLD  LOVE  AND  THE  NEW 

"It's  Harland  of  the  Sanilac"  said  Deane,  sadly. 
"She  was  wrecked  on  Midway  Island.  We  are  to 
go  for  the  rest  down  there.  Harland  and  four 
others  came  up  here  in  a  whale-boat  to  tell  the 
story." 

"  'Greater  love  hath  no  man  than  this,  that  a 
man  lay  down  his  life  for  his  friends/  "  said  the 
chaplain,  solemnly. 

"And  Miss  Wood?"  added  the  ensign,  looking 
toward  Elizabeth,  who  sat  a  little  way  off,  resting 
her  face  on  her  hand  and  gazing  steadily  out  to 
sea. 

"She  was — had  been  engaged  to  him,"  said 
Deane,  sternly. 

"Poor  boy!"  said  the  chaplain,  softly,  looking 
from  Harland  to  Deane  in  full  appreciation  of  it  all. 

Just  then  the  Jamestown's  boat  grated  on  the 
sand,  and  the  doctor  leaped  out  and  ran  forward. 

"What's  all  this?"  he  asked,  kneeling  down  by 
the  prostrate  form. 

"It's  Lieutenant  Harland  of  the  Sanilac"  an- 
swered the  chaplain.  "He's  dead,  and " 

"Nonsense!"  cried  the  doctor.  "He's  not  dead 
at  all — though  I'll  admit  he's  mighty  near  slipping 
his  cable.  We'll  take  him  to  the  ship  and  fix  him 
up  all  right,  I  think.  Hand  me  that  medicine- 
chest  there.  Lively  now." 

At  the  doctor's  words  Elizabeth  had  sprung  to 
her  feet  with  a  wild  cry,  a  strange  look  in  her 
face.  What  did  she  mean  by  that  look  and  cry, 
was  the  question  in  Deane's  jealous,  anguished 
heart? 

249 


UNDER   TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

Well,  they  took  Harland  off  to  the  ship,  and 
landed  him  at  Honolulu,  and  then  the  Jamestown 
steamed  down  to  Midway  Island  and  brought  all 
the  survivors  of  the  Sanilac,  and  the  other  ship- 
wrecked people,  in  safety  back  to  the  United 
States,  whither  the  Southern  Cross  had  long  since 
preceded  them. 

in 

ONE  evening  in  September  of  the  same  year, 
Lieutenant  Arthur  Deane,  that  moment  landed 
from  the  Jamestown,  overtook  a  rather  feeble- 
looking  man  while  walking  along  the  street  toward 
the  residence  of  Miss  Elizabeth  Wood;  there  was 
something  familiar  in  the  man's  appearance,  he 
thought,  as  he  glanced  at  him  when  he  passed, 
something  suggestive;  he  strove  to  recall  him. 
A  seafaring  man  evidently;  who  was  he?  But 
the  recognition  came  from  the  other  person. 

"Deane!  Deane!"  cried  the  man,  holding  out 
his  hand.  "Don't  you  know  me?  You  pulled  me 
out  of  a  nasty  hole  a  while  ago.  I'm  Harland,  of 
the " 

"Why,  of  course,"  said  Deane,  smiling.  "How 
stupid  of  me  not  to  have  recognized  you!  But 
your  having  no  beard  makes  such  a  change.  I'm 
glad  to  see  you.  How  are  you?" 

"Oh,  getting  along  nicely,  thank  you;  not  quite 
myself  yet,  but  soon  will  be,  I  think." 

"I'm  rejoiced  to  hear  it.  Where  are  you  bound 
for?" 

"I'm  going  to  see  my  betrothed,  Miss  Wood. 
250 


THE  OLD  LOVE  AND  THE  NEW 

I've  just  landed  from  Hawaii  this  morning  on  the 
China;  got  in  the  same  time  you  did,  in  fact.  I 
haven't  seen  her  since  that  day  on  the  sand." 

"Look  here,  Harland,"  said  Deane,  abruptly, 
"I've  got  something  to  tell  you;  it  isn't  fair  to 
keep  it  any  longer.  I  don't  know  whether  she's 
your  girl  or  mine.  She  had  half  way  promised 
herself  to  me — I  did  not  know  anything  about  you 
then,  you  see — that  very  day  I  pulled — when  you 
drifted  down  upon  us,  I  mean.  And  I  have  not 
seen  her  since  that  day,  either.  I'm  going  up  to 
her  house  now,  to  find  out  what  she  thinks  about 
it." 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Harland,  a  little 
whiter  than  before,  leaned  against  the  fence,  striv- 
ing to  recover  himself,  while  Deane  stared  moodily 
at  the  ground  at  his  feet. 

"Thank  you  for  your  frankness,  old  man,"  said 
Harland,  at  last.  "You  could  not  help  it,  of 
course;  no  one  could  help  loving  her.  I  don't 
blame  her  either,"  he  continued,  softly.  "But  I 
can't  quite  believe  it;  you  see,  she  told  me  again 
that  she  loved  me  there  on  the  sand.  Perhaps- 
well,  we  will  go  and  see  her  together,  ask  her  to 
make  her  choice,  and " 

"But  at  least  we  shall  be  friends  whatever 
happens,  shall  we  not?"  cried  Deane,  eagerly 
extending  his  hand,  which  the  other  promptly 
grasped,  replying: 

"Certainly;  I  owe  you  too  much  ever  to  forget 
you." 

Arm  in  arm  the  two  quixotic  gentlemen  mounted 
251 


UNDER    TOPS'LS    AND    TENTS 

the  steps  and  rang  the  bell  of  Elizabeth's  house. 
When  the  two  cards  were  placed  in  that  young 
lady's  hands,  she  had  her  bad  quarter  of -an  hour. 
But  during  the  intervening  days  she  had  thought 
deeply  on  the  subject,  and  when  she  entered  the 
parlor,  a  short  time  afterward,  her  mind  was 
made  up;  she  had  arrived  at  a  decision,  and  only 
awaited  the  inevitable  question  before  proclaim- 
ing it. 

Five  minutes  later  the  street  door  opened  and 
one  of  the  men  came  out  of  it  and  walked  slowly 
down  the  street.  The  other  within  the  parlor  held 
a  blushing  maiden  in  his  arms!  One  happy,  the 
other  sad.  So  runs  the  world  away ! 


252 


1  A     TV  A  "VT"    TTCT? 


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